All's Fair
by NyteKnight
Summary: Human rogue sent on a diplomatic mission to Silvermoon gets more than she bargains for. Set during Pandaria
1. Opportunity

**Author's Note: **

**World of Warcraft, Azeroth and the characters contained here within belong to Blizzard Entertainment. They are used without permission and no profit was received for using their characters. The original characters are copyrighted to Nyteknight. Please do not use without permission.**

**Many thanks to Feffervesce for giving me inspiration after reading your wonderful stories to get off my behind and start writing again after a 6 year absence. **

Chapter One: Opportunity

The worst part of Undercity was the smell. The sort of smell that took up residence in the nose and refused to leave. The sort of smell that you can taste. Not that this part of the former capital of the human kingdom of Lordaeron ever smelled good but since the Banshee Queen took over, the smell only worsened.

Nyte could remember the better days of Capital City. Under the leadership of King Terenas II the city rallied against the horde of Orcs that flowed over the mountains from Alterac during the dark days of the Second War. Cowardly Lord Perenolde traded his loyalty to save his own skin and betrayed his people by allowing passage to Lordaeron for Orgrim Doomhammer's troops. The treason was found in time and General Turalyn's forces combined with Alleria Windrunner's Quel'dorei rangers arrived in time to push back the green-skinned tusked creatures.

The city flourished after. Nyte herself attended many Hallow's End and Winter Veil events. It was at a Winter's Veil ball, shortly before the Third War that she met Tae'thelon Sundancer. He was a visiting ranger from Quel'thalas. From his first entry into the city every woman in Lordaeron wanted him. But it was the flame-headed rogue, a spy-master for the king that won his heart.

By this time Alleria and Turalyn's relationship had been revealed to their supervisors and Rhonin and Vereesa Windrunner had just married, much to the protest of both cultures. The union of a human spy and a High Elf ranger still left a lot of wagging tongues and suspicions on all sides. But like Lordaeron itself, that was a remnant of a once happier time. Like the stench of the Forsaken, it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Creeping along the walls of the sewers, Nyte made her way slowly past the rats and green sludge that lined the little known entrance to Undercity. Nyte was only familiar with it because of alcohol. Give the glorious heroes of the Alliance a little booze and they start bragging about sneaking into the heart of Horde territory and attempting to assassinate the leader of the Forsaken. In the end, they assassinated the food and drink vendor, a few guards, and got most of their party killed. Nyte got a very detailed map of the layout of the Undercity for the price of a few pints of Dwarven Stouts.

Inching slowly under stealth, Nyte slipped past the Abomination guards standing in watch at this entrance to Undercity. Huge as they may be, the hulking behemoth was much easier to slip past than the two Kor'kron guards stationed at the throne room entrances. Once past, Nyte slipped up the hood of her Sin'dorei made cloak and dropped stealth. She moved with enough familiarity and arrogance that no one took a glance long enough to spot the missing tell-tale Elven ears.

Moving quickly, Nyte unlocked the door to her target's residence. Twenty minutes later and her patience paid off when Magister Baelaen entered. It was all over in less than five minutes. Nyte's drawing of her blade across his windpipe effectively silencing him, while her second blade was thrust up between his ribs and into his heart. Lying the body on the ground, Nyte rifled through the drawers, finding the papers she wanted.

Once the body was found with the incriminating evidence, the conclusion would be made that he was assassinated by the Horde for skipping taxes due to the Warchief. Only Nyte and the man who hired her would know the truth.

Getting out was far easier than getting in. Slipping past the Scarlet Crusade that routinely patrolled the area, Nyte was quickly on her way home.

Sore and weary, Nyte guided her horse on the path that would bring her into Alterac. Friendly enough with the Stormpike Guards and Ravenholdt, Nyte was largely left alone. Skirting the areas that were still held by the Crushridge Ogres, Nyte made it back just as night was falling and a bitter wind started to blow, swirling snow around her.

Settling her horse snugly into the barn, Nyte made her way to her home. The hair on the back of her neck rose. It was a finely honed survival skill that told her something was wrong, despite what her eyes saw. On guard, Nyte entered, weapons at ready.

A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder pulling her back and nearly off her feet. A vicious looking blade, tinted a sickly green from the poison coating it pressed against her throat, tight enough to draw a small trickle of blood to flow and cause the wound to burn from the poison.

"Hello Celine," a deep voice said in her ear, face close enough to feel his hot breath against her cheek.


	2. Involuntary Volunteer

**Authors Note:**

**Another chapter up. Updates will be sporadic for a few weeks. Life and all that.**

**Please read and review =)**

Chapter 2 – Involuntary Volunteer

"Belore," Nyte hissed sharply through her teeth. "Get on with that you came here for or just slit my throat and be done with it. For Light's sake, hurry up about it."

"Always so happy to see me Celine," Tristen Atherton said, drawing the blade from her throat and leaning to give her a quick friendly peck on one cheek. He took a step back, sheathed his dagger in a rig he had on his forearm, and placed his hands up in a submissive gesture.

Nyte shot him an irritated glare as she made her way over to the wash basin in the kitchen. She gently washed the area of her throat where Tristen's knife broke skin. "This is going to scar you know. Next time you want to try your new poisons, find a recruit or something. I do not have a welcome mat for a reason."

Tristen chuckled. "My mistake. I could have sworn I saw one. And just where did you get Goblin land mines? They would work so well keeping the revelers away during that blasted Love celebrations. I can never seem to get that perfume out of my clothing."

Ignoring him briefly, Nyte threw a log onto the embers in the fireplace, skillfully brought he fire to life before placing the tea kettle over the fire, "Booty Bay. Did a job for one of them and that was the payment. Oh, please don't get comfortable, you won't be staying long."

"Celine…." He started softly, but Nyte held up a hand to stop him.

"It's Nyte now. Has been for some time," She snapped, far harsher than she intended. She sighed then poured two mugs of tea, handing him one as a peace offering for her tone.

"I prefer Celine. I don't know this Nyte person but I know and was very fond of Celine Addington," he said, gently sniffing the tea for poisons. Not that he thought the she would poison him, but it was a habit he developed. A habit that saved his life many times before.

"Celine Addington is a traitor to Lordaeron and the Alliance," she replied, her head turned towards the fire.

"You were never convicted. There was never any proof that you knew of Kael'thas' alliance and you know that. Yet you still punish yourself, living up here and taking crap jobs to assassinate Sin'dorei merchants for rival Alliance ones." Tristen countered back.

Nyte shot him a sharp glare but he continued. "I know all about your mission in Undercity to murder Magister Baelaen. And you are right, Celine Addington is a traitor…to herself. The Celine I remember wouldn't have accepted a job like that."

"Get out of my home," she said in a voice that froze the air between them.

To his credit, he stood. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he started for the door. He had crossed the line with her, but he couldn't bear to see her become…this. He knew part of this was his fault. Him and the others that refused to listen when she herself was betrayed. He and the others did this to her. He paused at the door. "Shaw has ordered you to return to Stormwind," he said softly.

That got Nyte's attention. She paused in mid sip of her tea. "Am I too close to your Op at Sofera's Naze? I have no intention on disrupting any SI:7 Ops," Nyte said with uncharacteristic worry in her voice. While she was never formally found guilty of anything and technically remained a member in good standing with SI:7, it was mutually agreed that it would be better if she left. Or as she told it. To recall her back now, after all this time, made no sense to him but Shaw was insistent she return.

Tristen prevaricated, trying to formulate an answer to put the fear he heard in her voice to rest. "He asked me to convince you. I was not privy to the details why but it sounds like they need your cooperation. Which is why I came and not Shaw or any of the others."

"And if I refuse? Politely tell you and him to go to the Twisting Nether? What then?" She snapped back.

He turned back toward her. "I…I don't know. Nothing maybe. If you were a risk to an ongoing Op, there would be a strike team of assassins here, not your friend. Will you come?" He asked, with boyish hopefulness to his voice.

Nyte didn't respond. She wasn't even looking at him. Instead she was looking deep into the fire. Tristen recognized that look. She was in an inner war with herself. The wind howled outside, slamming branches against the house. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. "There are some who feel that I was the betrayer. That I did it for power. Sometimes I still see the blood on my hands."

"Yes. But there are others. Those who now realize you were just as much of a victim as those you killed. Hear Shaw out before you decide to turn him down."

Nyte sighed. He was right. Again. "Yes. Tell Shaw that I will meet with him."

* * *

Tristen glanced behind his shoulder. Nyte rode behind and slightly to his left, her hood pulled up over her head. The closer they got to Dun Morogh and Alliance territory, the more withdrawn she appeared. Not for the first time since they left Hillsbrad, Tristen wondered if this was the best decision. He could have told Shaw that he couldn't find her or she refused. Shaw would know. For an SI:7 agent, Tristen was a poor liar.

The two agents that joined them in Arathi kept glancing back at her. Nyte was a growing legend. A deadly assassin, ruthless in her task and never asked questions. She would kill anyone for the right price. But Tristen remembered Celine Addington, the spy with ginger hair, bright green eyes the color of new grass, an upturned nose and freckles. She was adorably cute and used it to her advantage. The little kid sister was damn good at her job. Tae'thelon Sundancer was as well. At least until things went sideways.

Nyte could hear the whispers and see the looks. She knew one of the two agents accompanying them recognized her. He was just a recruit then but he had heard. They all heard how Tae'thelon Sundancer, Ranger of Silvermoon, betrayed his people with Kael'thas Sunstrider and fled to Outland, the ruined wreck of the world that was once Draenor. There, he and Kael doomed their people by using Fel energy to quell the cravings the Sunwell's destruction left them with. Heard how his wife Celine Addington was found beside the bodies of the Kirin Tor guards she slain to free Kael from The Violet Hold.

She hadn't know of Garithos' hatred of Kael or the elves. Or Kael's alliance with the Naga Lady Vashj to follow Illidan Stormrage into Outland. She wasn't even sure Thelon knew at the time. Later, he sided with Kael and siphoned the Fel energy from demons. He, like Kael, betrayed his people. Betrayed her. She had heard later he was killed defending Kael on the Isle of Quel'Danas. By that time her life had fallen apart and she was long past forgiveness or grief.

Nyte remembered the sound the guards made when they died. She felt Krasan's blood splash on her face as Kael killed him. It was then she knew Kael'thas had gone too far. Nyte was found with the bodies, broken and sobbing. There was never enough proof that Nyte was aware of Kael's alliance with Vashj. The surviving guards testified that she took no part in the slaughter. But Garithos would not hear of it. It was only the political power of Stormwind and the Stormwind Assassins that got her out of death by Garithos' hands. Eventually the guilt ate enough of her away, causing her to leave SI:7.

Mathias Shaw never formally gave her leave. Too many of the Stormwind Assassins, and later SI:7, were refugees from Lordaeron. Some never remained convince of her innocence. Murder they could handle but betrayal. Within rogue organizations, betrayal was the worst crime.

A shake to her shoulder brought her from her reverie. "Leave it in the past Celine." Tristen said quietly. Nyte managed a small weak smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Tristen grunted content to leave it at that…for now.

The rest of the ride was a blur to Nyte. The cold of Dun Morogh, the head of Ironforge, the constant gear sounds of the Deeprun Tram and finally the salty sea air of Stormwind. Tristen led Nyte towards Old Town. A lot had changed while Nyte had been away but a lot remained exactly as she remembered. Tristen spoke low to her, filling her in on all that Stormwind had undergone since the Cataclysm. Nyte listened politely. She had already known all of this. She was not a hermit but appreciated his attempt to put her at ease. Without it, she might have turned tail and ran.

Drawing up to a grassy area, Nyte froze. "You moved," she murmured to Tristen. He gently took her elbow and led her in.

"Well look what the wind blew in," a booming voice exclaimed as strong arms crushed her ribs.

"Hello Osborne," Nyte said between gasps.

Osborn the Night Man patted her head on the back before releasing her from the hug. "Good to see you back," he said. "None of these pups are as good as you."

"I'm not back," She said as Tristen led her into the building. Nyte recognized one or two of the agents. They looked back at her with wide surprised eyes.

"Shaw is waiting for her," Tristen said as he led her upstairs.

"Celine…Nyte," Shaw said as he stood from his desk. His tone was warm, friendly but distant. He took Nyte's leaving very personally, watching her slip away into the guilt-ridden woman before him. He only prayed she was up to the task.

"Shaw," she said coolly. Shaw's eyebrows rose a bit but didn't comment. She had been one to use his given name. But now… "The King has requested an operative. He received a letter about a possible alliance. You would need to travel alone with haste and stealth to bring the King's terms to his counterpart.

Nyte held up a hand to stop him. "Who," was all she said.

Shaw hesitated. Nyte was the best he could find. She spoke Thalassian fluently and knew the Sin'dorei. Most of all she knew the Ranger she would be meeting. He would listen to her. Even if the alliance failed to go through, he would listen.

"The Warchief has created a lot of enemies after his attack on Theramore. Some…factions do not agree with Garrosh Hellscream's actions and have looked to older….ties. Lor'themar Theron has expressed a willingness to renew old alliances. King Varian has asked for a representative to travel to Silvermoon and start this dialog. I would like that to be you."

Nyte drew a short breath and went pale.


	3. No Turning Back

**AN: Struggled with getting the end out. Life has been insane and a half.**

* * *

Chapter Three: No Turning Back

The world went quiet. All sound had ceased to exist. Not even the quiet breathing of the people in the room could be heard. "Excuse me?" Nyte said quietly. She was certain she had misheard. Shaw wouldn't ask her to travel to Silvermoon, not for this.

Shaw cleared his throat, slipping into his default authoritative tone before softening. Nyte technically was still his operative but she was not active. Most considered her retired. He needed her full cooperation, given willingly and not strong armed, for this insane plan to work.

"Lor'themar Theron has contacted King Varian wanting to break with Horde and rejoin the Alliance. The king needs someone discreet to get into Silvermoon, discuss the terms with the Regent Lord and get out without alerting Hellscream's spies."

"Why me?" Nyte asked. She already knew the answer. She had known the moment Shaw said the Regent Lord's name. But she needed to hear it from his lips.

Shaw seemed prepared for that question. He left out the breath he was holding. "You speak Thalassian better than any human I know. You know the geography. Granted things have changed since you were last there but we have updated maps to the most recent scourge movement. You know the culture and most of all you know Theron."

Nyte held up a hand, silencing him. "The truth Mathias. You can teach other agents to speak Thalassian or even get a Quel'dorei for this mission. So why fetch me from Alterac?"

Shaw smiled a bit. She was hearing him out. "You've been off the grid long enough that Garrosh Hellscream wouldn't know you. A Quel'dorei in the Ghostlands and Eversong will raise suspicions. It's well known that after Thalon Songweaver's betrayal in Theramore, that Vereesa Windrunner will not entertain any notions of peace with the Sunreavers or any Sin'dorei."

"Do you blame her? She supported her husband's decision to allow the Sunreavers to support the defense of Theramore and one betrayed the city. The weapon that was used to destroy it and kill Rhonin was Blood Elf made. Her actions are justifiable for her loss," Nyte said.

"No…just as I don't blame you for leaving like you did," Shaw said quietly. Nyte's face grew stony for a moment as the bad memories resurfaced. She took a deep quaking breath to quiet her nerves. "How open is the king to this?"

"Very open. He is serious about making this work. And that is why I want you instead of anyone else. You understand the benefits for the Alliance and for the Sin'dorei is this works. Hellscream weakened his standing with his actions in the Barrens and with Theramore. Our spies report a growing unrest within the Tauren and Trolls. Many did not agree to the method used to win Theramore. Our spies report on secret meetings involving Vol'jin." Shaw went on.

Nyte cut him off, "Which is why Garrosh had his throat cut. The Darkspear Trolls are preparing an open revolt against the Warchief. To bring the Sin'dorei over to our side now would destabilize the Horde as a whole." Nyte said in a contemplative tone.

"You understand." Tristen said, speaking for the first time.

Nyte glanced over to him, forgetting he was still in the room and nodded. "I…I will. I will think about this. You are asking me to face demons. I need to know that I won't be lost to them."

Shaw nodded. "Take tonight and speak with me in the morning."

Tristen grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at Nyte. "Let's go have some fun. It's been a while since I had a beautiful woman on my arm," he said as he led Nyte from SI:7 and into the heart of the city.

* * *

"I thought you were out. You seem to have a pretty good knowledge of current events." Tristen said as he eyed Nyte suspiciously. Nyte glanced over her shoulder at him and continued to walk toward the lake that was just outside the north gate of the city. Tristen sighed at her non answer and followed her the rest of the way in silence. He would wait her out. Sooner or later she would talk to him.

Nyte was holding her cards close, but she wasn't intentionally holding back. Nyte had heard about Theramore's destruction by a mana bomb powered by the Focusing Iris. She knew the Horde would not stay unified for long. She had heard things through second and third hand, accounts that a Sin'dorei mage undermined the efforts of the 7th Legion and the Kirin Tor, allowing the Horde in.

Yet she had heard about the disgust on Baine Bloodhoof's face and how the Regent Lord and the Banshee Queen refused to send but a token force to attack Theramore. She knew Lor'themar was no fool. He turned to Thrall after the humans, after Garithos, painted all Sin'dorei as power-eating betrayers after Prince Kael'thas betrayed his people to the Burning Legion. She knew Lor'themar was not unreasonable and if renewing old alliances would benefit his people over the continued leadership of Garrosh, Lor'themar would be willing to make it work.

"Since Theramore," Nyte started off quietly, "I have kept a close eye on things." Tristen looked at her closely, getting to the truth of the matter. "Things are changing and war is on the wind. Shaw says Varian supports this and I know from my own sources Vol'jin has spoken openly against Garrosh. Lor'themar seems to be sincere in his bid for peace, but…." She trailed off, chewing on her lower lip as she thought.

"But," Tristen said quietly, "Something has you doubting."

"The Kirin Tor. Lady Proudmore leads them now. Vereesa Windrunner still leads the Silver Covenant. Would everyone in the Alliance welcome the Blood Elves back?" Nyte stated.

"The Kirin Tor is neutral." Tristen shot back, a little too quick for Nyte's taste.

Nyte gave him a flat look. "If you can tell me that they are neutral, led by a woman who saw her home destroyed. Destroyed by the treachery of a Sunreaver and supported by a High Elf with a hatred of the Horde for what they did to her husband and sisters, then I am a fishwife!" she snapped back.

Tristen chuckled, then gave it and gave a full laugh. He continued to laugh, picturing Nyte in simple dress with a fish in hand. Tears rolled from the corner of his eye as he gasped to regain control over his laughter. "Get…yer fishin'…pole." He gasped out. After a few moments, he regained control, face still red. "Varian wanted the Kirin Tor to expel the Sin'dorei as a precaution. Prince Anduin sent me to speak with her."

* * *

_Tristen and the Prince stepped from the portal into the Purple Parlor. Jaina looked over at their direction and laughed, "Varian sent you as well? I'm outnumbered in my own city!" Her eyes flashed mischievously. "Let's go about this a different way. Put yourself in my shoes. Imagine that YOU are the leader of the Kirin Tor Tristen! The most influential archmage in all of Azeroth! What would YOU do?"_

_Tristen thought about it for a moment "I would commit our order to an Alliance victory," he replied._

_Jaina looked at him, "Spoken like a stalwart Alliance rogue. Believe me, I understand the sentiment. Now then, as leader of the Kirin Tor and a faithful part of the Alliance, what would you do about the Sunreavers? True, they are advocates of the Horde. But they have been allies and productive members of the Kirin Tor for over 2000 years. This city is their home. Would you expel them?"_

_"No. Not if they renounced the Horde." Tristen glanced over to the Prince but the Prince kept his eyes on Jaina._

_Jaina brushed her hair from her eyes, deep in thought. "You're so passionate for your cause and clear in convictions. Believe me when I say that the Sunreavers are the same. The Horde is their family. Not all of them support Garrosh. But they're not about to abandon their own people... I couldn't ask them to without tearing the Kirin Tor apart. The Kirin Tor is sacred to me. We need to stay united."_

_Tristen raised his eyebrows at her, "Are you sure?"_

_Jaina walked to the window and looked down upon Dalaran. "Nobody dislikes Garrosh more than me. I wrestle with my anger every day. Come with me - look around you a moment. In the aftermath of Theramore, my first instinct was to decimate Orgrimmar - to kill every man woman and child in the city."_

_Anduin gasped at the hatred he heard in Jaina's voice. "…Jaina!"_

_She looked to Anduin with soft eyes, "I am not proud. Since then, Kalecgos and I have talked at length about power, and how it should be used. The Kirin-Tor has a legacy of abuse. Kel'thuzad turned his knowledge of the arcane arts toward Necromancy. Kael'thas Sunstrider was also a student here, another of our fold who betrayed us. Every day I ask myself: "What's the right thing to do?" Anduin, you know more than anyone, it's important to separate the Horde from its people." She looked to Tristen than back to Anduin, "The Sunreavers still operate within this city. Alliance and Horde work together. As long as we stay above the war, then there's hope for the world as a whole. I see our city as a beacon of light, showing the way. If we can trust one another here, then there's hope for the rest of the world."_

_Anduin nodded, "I understand. I'll talk to my father." Even Tristen seemed to agree with Jaina's logic._

_"Thank you, Anduin," She said before turning to the window once more._

_Anduin gestured for Tristen to follow him, "Thank you for your help, Tristen. I hear the wisdom in Jaina's words. Let's hope her faith in the Sunreavers is justified."_

* * *

"Jaina's faith in the Sunreavers swayed Varian." Tristen spoke, returning his thoughts to the present "Though Admiral Taylor and others still feel it to be a bad decision."

"And you?" Nyte asked.

"Me? I'm not paid to think. Just to gather intel. But no, I don't believe Aethas or Lor'themar knew of Garrosh's plans. If they want peace, I believe them to be sincere."

"So before I tell Shaw I'll do this, what do I need to know?" Nyte asked, glancing to Tristen with a contemplative look on her face.

Tristen extended his hand to her, "Come with me. This is going to take a while." He said.

* * *

As Nyte leaned back against the tree, the remains of their evening meal long forgotten, she tapped her fingers against the glass of Dalaran wine she was holding. "So Garrosh is digging up all of Kun-Lai for this Divine Bell. An ancient Mogu artifact that is rumored to turn men into mindless killing machines. Why am I not surprised. He is going too far. He has gone too far. I can see why Lor'themar is rethinking his people's place in the Horde. What of the others? On our side?"

Tristen thought and stifled a yawn. "'Scuse me. I've no head for wine. I do not know the position of the Dranaei or the Worgen. The Keldori seem to be willing to at least listen to the offer. Garrosh, if left unchecked, can bring about a second cataclysm."

Nyte nodded then thought. "Tell Shaw I will leave at dawn. I will travel faster alone." She place a finger over Tristen's lips. " I will be in touch but I need to go at this alone."

Tristen playfully nipped at her. "Thank you Celine. It's good to have you back."

"I'm not back" Nyte said, unsure of how much she believed that herself.

* * *

"I'm not back." Nyte muttered to herself as she picked her footing between rocks, north of Zul'Aman. Her trip to Ghostlands had gone rather easy. Alliance flight paths on Griffins up through the Eastern Plaguelands. She had spent the day at North Pass Tower before riding through Thalassian Pass at night. She had rested in An'owyn, taking advantage of the Night Elf Sentinels there to get newer reconnaissance on the land. They had advised her to stick closer towards Zul'aman and sparsely populated mountains and avoid the Dead Scar and the town of Tranquillien if she wanted to avoid detection. Rougher terrain would make her trip longer then she had planned but the logic seemed sound.

"Shaw and this whole damn Alliance can go to the Twisting Nether," She grumbled, reaching for another handhold. Planting her feet, she stretched grabbing on to the rock with her right hand. Once she got a good grip, she pushed off moving her feet for another foothold. Instead the rock slipped from under her. Nyte scrambled to secure her grip but soon that too failed. With a sharp hiss of pain, she fell down the rock face, her twisted and battered body coming to rest between remnants of a Troll wall, a large tree branch and the rocks she had just fell from. Nyte moaned once then fell silent.


	4. It All Comes Apart

**AN: Another chapter in. Update may be in a few weeks. Too many things, no cloning machine.**

* * *

Chapter Four: It All Comes Apart

Champion Caeden Dawnblade was not having a very good day. Recent tasks for Garrosh Hellscream left him doubting the leadership of the Horde. He had returned to Silvermoon with the Mogu claw and asked Lady Liadrin for her permission for him to remain. He knew the Regent Lord was displeased with current events and Lady Liadrin granted him his request.

Becoming increasingly restless in Silvermoon, Caeden found himself led by the Light towards southern Quel'thalas, aptly named Ghostlands now. Like the inhabitants, this area of Quel'thalas was a former remnant of its greater glory. The Dead Scar remained an ugly reminder of the hurt his people received. Arthas' forces literally killed the land they traveled upon. Deathholme was slowly being cleansed. Having started near the Dead Scan putting the scourge and wretched to rest, Caeden found himself far from where he started. After persusing a particular crafty band of Scourge, he found himself surrounded by high walls with Troll markings.

He knew he was close to Zul'Aman, former bastion of the Amani trolls. Recently a joint force led by Halduron Brightwing and Vereesa Windrunner cleared this place of all but a few pockets of Trolls.

Hefting his sword, he closed his eyes as he felt himself filled with the Holy Light. His order, the Blood Knights, had once enslaved a Naaru, M'uru, and fed upon his energy to state the cravings for Fel energy the Sin'dorei had. It was M'uru's sacrifice that led to the restoration of the Sunwell and with it, his Light given powers. A priest by training and abandoned by the Light when Kael'thas led his people down their dark path, Caeden felt the best way to atone for his misdeeds was by eradicating the evil plaguing his lands. The Amani trolls, while not necessarily evil, did practice vile rituals such as blood drinking.

He charged, his voice in a yell as he brought his sword down on one of the Troll blood drinkers "Anor'alah! By the Light!"

* * *

Slowly the feeling of life started to return to Nyte. She felt pain. Pain everywhere. But her body felt intact. While most rogues had trained their bodies to avoid damage from most falls, Nyte was not exceptionally skilled at it. And especially ill prepared for a fall like that one. As the consciousness returned, she took account of her injuries. She couldn't feel her right leg but the weight on her left told her it was still there. She knew a fall like that had left her with a few broken ribs and internal bleeding. If she remained her, she would die. Either by her injuries, the elements or wild animals of either the two-legged or four-legged variety she didn't know. But she had to move. Her mission was probably over, but if she could get to An'owyn or even Quel'Danil lodge in Arathi, perhaps not.

Gritting her teeth, Nyte pushed herself up. She felt a snap in her arm then blinding pain. Nyte screamed as the blackness closed around her again.

* * *

Caeden had just pulled his sword from the chest of an unfortunate Troll when he heard the scream. It was too high pitched to be made with a Troll's throat. He couldn't tell the gender but the pain in the voice was evident.

Grabbing his shield he ran to the north where the scream had come from. He came into the village, long deserted, flanked on one side by high trees and mountains and nothing else. He could smell blood in the air but didn't see any signs of battle. He looked around, praying to the Light he wasn't too late. Then he saw it, a small portion of mountain had given way. Walking cautiously over to the base, he saw a small form laying crumpled behind a tree clad in the browns and greens of the Farstriders. Frowning, he knelt beside the female form. Normally Farstriders didn't venture out on solo expeditions and he couldn't see a bow with the body. Perhaps she had gotten separated in an ambush.

Caeden reached for her, noting her shallow breathing. He prayed to the Light, feeling its warmth infuse him. He transferred the energy to her, filling her with it. The heal, though quick, was strong. He guided it to heal her most grievous wounds.

Satisfied with the progress, Caeden reached under the form to lift her. A moan escaped the woman's lips. "Shhh...Rest. I got you," he said in Thalassian to his charge. His voice seemed to calm her. He carried her over to the soft grass and gently laid her down to get a better look at her.

She was dressed in the browns, greens and golds of the Farstriders. Yet the style of her tabard was...off. Caeden was a priest when Quel'thalas fell to the forces of Prince Arthas. Yet he had grown up with the Windrunner sisters and Ranger General Brightwing. The tabard brought back memories of golden woods, summer breezes and a time before the Scourge. The current Farstriders kept some of the original designs but the current tabard reflected the Sin'dorei. "Did I just rescue a Quel'dorei?" he wondered.

While he identified with the Sin'dorei, the Blood Elves, he in another lifetime had been a Quel'dorei, a High Elf. Having been a priest at the time of the Sunwell's destruction, he took the loss of the arcane and the Light hard. He was one of the first to turn to the source Kael'thas had given his people and thus one of the first to have his eyes turn from blue to Fel green. He held no hatred towards the Quel'dorei but he couldn't say the same of them towards him.

"You are far from home little one," he whispered in Thalassian as he gently brushed her hood and hair from her face. He looked to her and froze.

* * *

Nyte stirred feeling herself carried. The pain was fading. She heard a voice in her ear, Thalassian, she registered. The voice was calming. She rested.

Hearing the voice again, she opened her eyes, "Where?" she whispered, speaking Thalassian automatically. Her voice was rough, horse and unfamiliar to her. That simple word took what remaining energy she had and she fell into blissful blackness again.

* * *

Caeden stared at the human woman. She had briefly fluttered her eyes. Green he noted, a very striking contrast to her hair, before closing them again. She had asked where she was in Thalassian. Thalassian.

He was at a loss. She was human. Alliance for sure. Here in Quel'thalas and at his mercy. He could heal her and leave her. She could find her own way. What if the Trolls or Scourge found her first? He could bring her to Silvermoon to be handed over to Garrosh and tortured to death. "No," he thought as he gently picked her up once again and started moving towards his base camp.

Caeden watched the sleeping rogue, for that's what she was, across from him. He had divested her from the leather ranger armor she wore. It was authentic, if a bit old, of that he had no doubt. But it wasn't hers. It had signs of being made for someone taller and probably male. It had been modified to fit her. In her pack he found throwing knives, daggers and poisons. All rogue equipment.

Though why a lone rogue would be this far from Alliance lands baffled him. Unless she was an assassin. No, something he felt said he was not dealing with an assassin. A spy then.

"Or emissary," he wondered. He knew the Regent Lord had joined the Horde to protect his people but once had served besides the Windrunners in defense of Lordaeron. He thought back a few weeks. A vaguely worded letter from "A friend from Silvermoon" had reached him in Kun-Lai. That friend from Silvermoon was the Regent Lord himself instructing Caeden the task to find out what Garrosh was digging up all of Pandaria for.

Garrosh, through his underling, send him to Silvermoon to check in on Lor'themar's progress. And to allow for Lor'themar to debrief Caeden on what he found in Pandaria.

* * *

_"We are trying to uncover the secrets of one of the mogu artifacts Garrosh insisted we investigate. It is proving most difficult, as anyone who probes it magically is greatly affected by raw, negative emotions. I called in the assistance of Archmage Aethas of the Sunreavers in the hopes that he and Rommath could crack this puzzle. They asked for you specifically – apparently you have some relevant experience? Go to the chamber below Farstrider Square east of here and see if you can assist them." Lor'themar has ordered. _

_Caeden had entered the chamber under Farstrider Square. Archmage Aethas and Grand Magister Rommath were waiting for him. The mages were puzzling over a strange box. Caeden had seen the box before in Kun-Lai. It was an ancient artifact belonging to a race called the Mogu. When he entered, Rommath was talking,_

_"Jaina Proudmoore now sits as head of the Kirin Tor and rules Dalaran. That puts the citadel square in the hands of the Alliance no matter how much Aethas brags about neutrality. This young upstart may have forgotten, but the Alliance tried to imprison and massacre our people during the third war. Forgive me if I do not share his faith in their … "neutrality"." Rommath said with disgust evident in his voice._

_Aethas countered him, "Silvermoon has been allies with Dalaran for over 2000 years. It is not a friendship we should idly toss aside at the whim of our 'esteemed' Warchief Garrosh. Oh … are you here about the artifact?" he said noticing Caeden for the first time._

_Caeden cleared his throat, "Lore'themar wants a status update on the experiment."_

_It was Aethas that replied, "Lor'themar wants a status update? Or is it his master Garrosh? You should tell them both that this experiment is a waste of time. The mogu drew power by enslaving the living essence of other creatures. Is this something our Warchief should be dabbling in? This is the same road Kael'thas Sunstrider once walked, and it nearly destroyed our people. Why are we taking orders from someone who would have us walk down this road again?"_

_Rommath did not rise to the bait, "This Korune device is similar to the fel crystals we once used to enslave demonic energies. Demon or angry spirit or elemental manifestation of an emotion, the principle is relatively the same. We need to see how intact the entity stored within this artifact is, however. Since you have experience with the mogu and the other dangers of Pandaria, would you be so kind as to do the honors? We have already disabled most of the protective wards. Simply adjust the intensifier disc on the artifact and be ready for anything that comes out."_

_"Enough Rommath! The Sin'dorei must be free from the yoke of the Horde!" Aethas had snapped._

_Caeden ignored the two arguing mages and did as he was asked. Soon he felt blinding hatred and rage. He prayed to the Light for guidance but all he saw and felt was hatred. Hatred toward mages, hatred towards the Alliance, hatred towards himself. Arrows started to fly over his head to the Sha essance that had materialized out of the box. Suddenly, as Caeden saw Lor'themar and Halduron, he understood the source of that hatred. He shifted and started to attach the essance until it was no more. _

_"What … what was that?" Aethas asked, coming around to his own emotions._

_"What madness is this?" Lor'themar demanded, surveying the scene._

_"It has been an age of the world or more since I felt any emotion at even a fraction of that." Rommath commended, looking around as well._

_Aethas appologized, "Rommath … I … I don't know what came over me."_

_Rommath looked back at the box, "It would seem this "sha" energy is far more powerful than I previously thought."_

_Lor'themar turned to Caeden.  
_

_"This reckless use of my people by Garrosh is becoming intolerable. If you had not been here to assist, I dread to think what might have happened." His tone grew quiet, "Caeden, may I have a word with you? In private?"_

_Lor'themar led him to his private study. "You are a hero of the Horde. Your deeds in Northrend and during the Cataclysm are the stuff of legend. For this reason, I trust your discretion. I am a ranger, not a politician but like it or not, the mantle of leadership has fallen on my shoulders. My people, our people, who have suffered through so many challenges and betrayals look to me to secure their future. We Sin'dorei were driven to the Horde by the bigotry and distrust of the Alliance. Now I look at our Warchief and I begin to see the very same racism. He is willing to throw away our lives for his agenda. Know this: I won't stand idle if the Horde interests conflict with those of my people. I may reconsider old Alliances. Keep your eyes open, Caeden. We are all in this together...for now."_

* * *

"Old Alliances," Caeden thought. Was this woman a messenger of sorts? Or a spy? Caeden knew he had to bring her to Lor'themar. He sat back tending the fire and waited for her to regain consciousness. The moon was overhead and the wind was stirring up a tempest when Caeden heard her stir.

* * *

Nyte came to with a disorientated feeling. Something heavy and woolen was placed over her – a blanket. She heard the crackle of a fire. "Tristen," she said aloud, her mine trying to process how she was healed and now laying in front of a fire.

"An accomplice?" a male voice asked in common. A Blood Elf Paladin saw near her, one hand on the sword laid across his knees.

Nyte's eyes widened as she recognized the speaker for what he was. She bit back a racial epitaph and remained silent.

He watched her for a moment, "That was a bad fall you took rogue. You've been resting for hours. I've set the bones but your arm and leg may be weak for a few more days. How does your head feel?"

His common was impeccable with only a slight trace of a Lordaeron accent. "Was he Quel'dorei," she wondered but then the light caught his Fel green eyes. She struggled to sit up and found her hands and feet bound.

Watching her struggle, Caeden gently helped her into a sitting position, keeping his eyes locked on hers. She had taken a nasty blow to the head in her fall. "If you don't fight, I'll untie your hands. I have a soup warming by the fire."

Nyte nodded softly. The bonds were tight, too tight for her to loosen on her own. As he leaned closer, she spied the rock.

The moment her hands were free, she lunged for it, wrapping her hands around her prize. A sharp pain in her arm caused her to drop it.

Caeden wrapped his hands around her arm, just over the break and squeezed. She cried out and dropped her makeshift weapon. "No. You are an Alliance spy in Horde territory. If I wanted to be cruel, I would hand you over to Garrosh. You have orders. What are they?" he asked as he let go of her hand.

He watched as she drew the arm closer to her and gently rubbed the area. He hadn't meant to squeeze hard, just enough for her to drop it. "Please?" he said as he reached for her arm.

Nyte looked at him suspiciously as he reached for her. He kept his hands in front of him and met her look. He gently, very gently, for a warrior, took a hold of her arm. His eyes glowed with a faint gold as he prayed, a warm soft light bathing his hands. He gently soothed her arm, taking the pain with it as the glow faded.

"Thank you," Nyte said softly. She was his captive but he didn't have to heal her, just keep her alive.

Caeden nodded passing her a bowl of soup. She hesitantly took it, looking at it for a long moment. He picked up his own and begin to eat.

"Your Thalassian is excellent. You had a good teacher," he said between mouthfuls. He waited until she had eaten some of her own, "What are your orders?"

Silence. Sighing, he tried again. "I know you are an Alliance spy. One well prepared enough to speak Thalassian fluently and dress in Farstrider armor. Or perhaps just a Syndicate assassin... But right now you are my captive and it's a long way to Silvermoon to pass in silence."

Again silence from the rogue. "I could turn you over to the Farstriders. They don't exactly take kindly to my kind, but for you, they just might," he said trying to invoke any reaction from her.

Nothing. He tried another tactic. Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out a small wrapped object and offered it to her. "A sweet. I got this in Pandaria from a baker there. Cooking is an art to them." He watched her closely. She did not take it but he saw recognition in her eyes.

Pandaria he said. Nyte wondered. She knew something happened there to prompt Lor'themar into action. Could he get her to Silvermoon? Could he be trusted? She yawned, her eyes growing heavy.

Caeden took the bowl from her. "Rest rogue. We talk in the morning. You are safe tonight," he said gently helping her down. For a moment he thought she had tasted the sleep potion he laced her soup with. He was certain now she was on a mission. But sent by whom and for what he still didn't know.

* * *

A hand shook her shoulder, waking her from sleep. "Rogue...rogue...can you fight?"

Nyte blinked a moment, confused. It was dark. The fire had died down. "Rogue...can you fight?" The Blood Knight whispered. He pressed her daggers into her hand. "Two Kor'kron assassins. To the east."

She sat up in a panic. "I need to get to Silvermoon!" she said, taking the daggers.

He chuckled. The first full sentence he got from her yet. "We need to live first." He played a hand on her shoulder. She felt the warm touch of the Light and realized he was placing a blessing on her. "Can you fight?"

"Yes," she said. He helped her into her leather armor, dressing her with ease. "Where?" She said, testing the fit of the buckles.

"Two. To the east. Moving this way. I think to catch us asleep. Hellscream must have gotten wind of my dealings with Theron."

"Or your human prisoner," Nyte said. "Distract them. I'll come from behind."

"Al diel Shala," he said, standing and lifting his sword and shield.

The rogue nodded once and faded into stealth.

He lost track of her and counted to twenty before praying to the Light. A golden flow infused him. The Kor'kron's eyes widened as they saw their prey. Or at least one Orc did. The other opened his mouth to shout but soon fell silent as a knife made its way across his throat. The rogue had dropped from stealth and dispatched the Orc in three shots. "Belore she was good" Caeden thought.

The second Orc wheeled upon her, knocking her back with the heavy war ax he used. Caeden charged forward catching the Orc with his shield. The Paladin brought the sword down with his Light infused power.

"Behind you," the rogue yelled. Caeden was too slow and caught the third Orc's ax across his ribs. He brought up the Holy Light to shield him. The rogue was quick, darting under and getting a few shots to the kidneys in before darting out. He saw her favoring her leg heavily and used her off hand more and more. It was only a matter of time before the Orc noticed. He taunted him off of her, stunning him. Caeden released the seal he was holding as the assassin fell still, felled by a spectral hammer. The rogue was next to him, helping him walk. He was vaguely aware of her speaking.

"We need to get to Silvermoon. If Hellscream knows then it will never work. I need to speak to Lor'themar..." She was pressing something to his lips. "It's a healing potion. Not as good as your Paladin abilities but it will help." He nodded his thanks as she poured it down his throat.

"Hellscream knows I'm spying on him," the Paladin said. Nyte paused from her ministrations on his side. She looked at him carefully. "Who has your loyalty?" She said, her soft hand still pressed to his side.

Caeden considered her words. He felt her hands deftly tending to his wound. He almost said Lady Liadrin but realized that wasn't what she was asking. "I serve my people, the Sin'dorei."

She paused, "Can you travel?"

"Can you?" he answered. The Paladin looked her over. Something about her question jarred him. She grabbed her pack and handed him his.

"Yes. The ax knocked the wind from me but I'm in no worst for wear then I was before," She answered.

He needed to get her to Silvermoon. Of that Caeden was sure. "Put your hood up Farstrider." Nyte released the breath she was holding and supported him as they fled.

Shortly after passing the Farstrider Enclave without alerting them, she started to speak. Her story spilled forth. Caeden was sure it was the blood loss but he felt fine. He had rested when they were far enough away and healed him and her. But he must have relapsed. She wasn't telling him what she was telling him. "So you're Wrynn's emissary."

She nodded. "Aye. That I am. Sent to discuss peace between our two races."


	5. Secrets of the Divine Bell

**A/N: Just to be clear about this plot, the entire idea started around two very brief comments during the Landfall patch. One comment was made on Horde side by Lor'Themar about looking into possible Alliances (capital included). The other was after the purge of Dalaran. Varian made a comment to Jaina about negotiating with the Blood Elves to bring them back into the Alliance. Until she dun goofed. Any flavor text that was a result of the cut scenes or quests are in italics. Those belong to blizzard, I own the rest.**

**ArtemisJade: Thank you. I'm planning on carrying this story up through the novel War Crimes and recap some events from Pandaria. However, there is much more. I'm leveling an alliance alt so I get to see these quests again on that side, though after this story is completed I fear. I've made friends with Wowhead and Wowwiki to fill in the text blanks. I wish we could repeat quests. I'm doing a lot of reading for chapter 7 to get into Lor'themar and Halduran's mindset.**

**In3ptitude: I'm such a lore junkie. My raid guild hated doing new raids with me since I wanted to read/look at everything. My Vent ended up getting muted because of all the "squeeing" that was occurring during our Icecrown run. My two mains are all over the locations being used in game as research.**

**Impsy Locke: I guess no cupcakes for me. =( Unless you mean some of the Warcraft 3 back stories (Garithos, Kael'thas, ect), that's more of ignorance on my part then intentional AU. I have to do some creative embellishment to fill in missing parts but I am trying to stick through the Pandaria storyline. And "some factions" is being diplomatic. Sometimes you have to stretch the truth a bit. And the Gobbos use to like Garrosh, until he was captured and can no longer pay them. They are the Ferengi of Azeroth.**

**Guest: Thank you for your review. Writing has been a bit slow due to real life.**

**And the car is totaled but I am unhurt. The money from the car is going for a nice down payment on a new SUV this fall. I miss my old beater but having a new car with lots of room will be exciting.**

* * *

"And the allocation of naval support? Under whose command?" Lor'themar demanded, leaning back in his chair. He peered at Nyte.

She leaned forward in her own chair and peered at him in return. "Martial control falls under the jurisdiction of King Varian Wrynn as leader of the Alliance. You...or your chosen representative will be given a voice on his advisory council of course."

"And what is my advice differs from his?" The Regent Lord asked with an arched eye brow, "What happens then?"

"Then it goes to vote by the representatives of the Alliance." Nyte replied smoothly and calmly as if explaining to a child.

"And they are?"

She stifled a chuckle at the line of questioning. To laugh out loud in this situation would be rather inappropriate and rude. "Names you already know. I do not believe the Regent Lord of Quel'thalas does not know his enemy counterparts...Are you trying to drive me mad?" She asked.

Lor'themar's brows shot up in mock surprise. "Never. Just trying to be a good politician and look out for my people," He said.

"And failing badly with the politics part," Nyte said, her resolve failing as she fell into a laugh.

Lor'themar allowed himself a smile, "The mantle of responsibility thrust upon us due to circumstances. The spy master and ranger trying to talk peace."

"Alleged spy master remember," Nyte corrected with a smile, "I never confirmed what I did for Teranas. All you have are rumors and well thought out guesses."

"My apologies Celine. Alleged spy master," Lor'themar corrected, sounding quite insincere.

"Nyte...please." She corrected as she took a sip of the wine he provided. They were sitting in his personal study discussing the finer points of the proposal. Only Hauldron, Rommath and Aethas Sunreaver were aware of the details of the negotiations. She knew little of the Grand Magister and mage but of the Ranger General she was familiar with. If both Haldron and Lor'themar felt the magi should be included in these talks, there was little she could do about it.

"Sometimes I see you and start looking for Tae'thelon..." He paused seeing the uncomfortable look on her face. "I'm sorry...Nyte. It was a long time ago and sometimes I find myself missing..."

"When things were simpler and less complicated. And duties fell to other people," Nyte replied finishing his thought.

Lor'themar nodded. "You didn't have to leave, you could have..." He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

"No I couldn't have. I am not a Quel'dorei. Silvermoon, though as welcome as I am sure you would make me feel, this could never be my home." Nyte said softly, as her mind wandered.

Lor'themar's voice brought her back to reality. "You could have remained with the Alliance and SI:7 in Stormwind. Instead of fleeing to Alterac." Nyte turned her gaze to him.

"I needed to find myself. To sort things out. To heal." She replied.

"And did you?" Lor'themar leaned forward towards her. The look of hubris and arrogance had completely disappeared from his face. He remembered the young woman from her days in Lordaeron and how she completely won the heart of one of his best rangers. This Nyte he received reports about was hardly the same woman. In fact, when he first heard of her deeds and the lengths she was willing to go through for coin, he didn't believe it to be her. Even when Caeden Dawnblade had brought her to him, a shivering soggy mess from getting caught in a sudden storm, he still couldn't believe Celine Addington and this Nyte were the same person. Yet sitting with her now, every once in a while her facade would crack and he would see Celine once again.

She was quiet, gnawing on her lower lip as she thought. "Another Celine trait," Lor'themar thought as he watched her closely.

"I am..." she said quietly. Nyte cleared her throat, banishing away the past. Her voice turned hard and professional once again as if the previous ten minutes ceased to exist. "I will speak to Varian about your concern. I do not anticipate it to being a problem. I will send word when I hear back," Nyte said, standing and bowing slightly to him.

Lor'themar also stood. "Shorel'anar Nyte," he said as he dismissed her. He watched her leave and waited with a bemused smirk until she had reached the door. "Oh, a letter came for you," he said almost too casually.

She paused, willing her heart to slow before turning back. "Oh? And what does it say?" She raised her eyes to look at him.

Lor'themar held a regal hand to his chest in mock hurt, "What rude host would I be if I were to read the personal correspondences of a guest?"

Nyte looked at him flatly. "The smart Regent Lord with an Alliance member in his city conducting clandestine peace negotiations being held under your Warchief's nose," Nyte pointed out.

Lor'themar gave her a nod conceding defeat on that matter before crossing the room and handing over the letter. "I do not worry about treason from him..or from you. Other, yes. But Dawnblade has always been loyal to our people."

Nyte took the letter and looked at the now familiar handwriting on the outside. "I see. Thank you for your discretion," she said, as she headed to the quarters Lor'themar set aside for her.

As she walked, her guard fell in besides her. She was a guest, but had limited liberty. Not just to protect the Sin'dorei state secrets but also her. There were only a privileged few who know she was here. And it was much safer for her and Lor'themar if it stayed that way.

Upon reaching her quarters, she turned to her guard. "Please have Magister Rommath meet me at his earliest convenience," she said in common. She was assured all the guards assigned to her did in fact speak common, but they were not informed of her ability to speak and understand Thalassian. He nodded once to her order then turned, leaving her alone.

Most of her days were spend in this room, save for meals and negotiations with the Regent. Halduron had been her most frequent visitor, often coming to share a meal or two. But she was alone for the most part. Her only bright spot were the letters she received from Caeden.

The Paladin had grown protective of her since their meeting in Ghostlands. He, once he accepted the fact she was human, had a very optimistic disposition and was quite humorous. And Nyte found herself opening up to him.

However she knew once she left Silvermoon, it would not last. She was an Alliance SI:7 agent, he was a Sin'dorei Paladin. But for now, he was a welcome distraction. She opened the letter.

* * *

Caeden sat in his tent in the mountains of Kun-Lai, pouring over the maps supplied by the Pandaren. He was here on the direct orders of his Warchief of course. Garrosh had pulled members of all the Horde races and had them digging up Pandaria for this Mogu Divine Bell. He had been given orders to support the efforts of the Reliquary in finding the artifact. The Alliance had not made his job easy.

Everyday it seemed the Alliance harassed the work site. Caeden had been forced to kill quite a few. Just yesterday, he had taken a nasty would from a Dwarf Hunter's pet. Caeden knew it was a race to find the bell first. He was not a student of archeology nor history but what he had learned of this Bell told him it would be better for all if it was left buried. It was a perversion of the Light to create something so evil. While he feared Garrosh getting it, he also feared it falling into Alliance hands.

The rogue, Nyte as she liked to be called, was certain of King Varian's motives in talking peace but he couldn't help but wonder if she was being deceived. He knew so little about her still.

Any real attempts to learn about her history was met with walls. He gathered she had more then a simple passing familiarity with the Regent Lord and the Ranger General. The ill-fitting armor she wore was Ranger armor from before the Third War but she was never a Ranger. Once, he tried asking her but was given such a look of mental anguish that he never brought it up again. Sometimes she would open up to him and he would catch a glimpse of the true woman underneath the walls. And then there were other times she would close up and push him away.

Taking his mind off the direction Hellscream was leading the Horde, he would write to her. He hoped and prayed her mission would succeed and it would be a step towards peace in Azeroth.

* * *

Nyte sat back on the luxurious bed and read.

"Rogue, I hope this letter finds you well and things are progressing as you desire them to. I am still remaining in Kun-Lai. Winter is coming soon to these lands the Pandarian say. It snows some mornings. It is breathtaking here. The air is crisp and blue. Perhaps the Light may lead you here.

Shorel'Anar – C"

He never used names or details, but just wanted to share his experiences with her. Pandaria was a land of enchantment and peace. He had found solace there and perhaps Nyte would too one day. Her thoughts had started to drive to another time and place before footsteps brought her back to reality.

A Blood Elf mage unfamiliar to her stood in the doorway. "The Grand Magister is unavailable but sent me to assist you." he said.

* * *

Tristen pulled his cloak close to him. The wind coming off the mountains in Kun-Lai was biting cold. He received orders from Admiral Taylor to assist in recovering this Divine Bell before Hellscream did.

He had managed to discover it's hiding place in the ruins of Korune. The Mogu had buried the bell until the return of the Thunder King. That was several days ago. Since then, Sarannha Skyglaive had let a contingent to Kun-Lai Summit. The Explorer's League was getting close to uncovering the tomb. Once the bell was uncovered it would be immediately transported to Darnassus for safe keeping under the watchful eye of the Druids there.

Tristen's job was to prevent the Horde from getting it first. That brought him into conflict with Sarannha Skyglaive more often then he cared to. He signed and tugged on his slight beard in annoyance.

His thoughts turned to Cel...Nyte and her mission. They were friends of course. Sometimes closer then friends. He and Nyte partnered often during ops and she always had his back. For them to be on separate missions felt odd to him. As a favor, Shaw confirmed that she was in Silvermoon and her mission was progressing favorably. He was not able to tell him more.

A clank brought him to the present. A cheer from the Dwarves of the Explorer League confirmed what he thought. _"There is is, Tristen! The Divine Bell!" Sarannha Skyglaive said from his side. "We must take it somewhere safe." She had stated, several times, her opinion on SI:7. "Sentinels! Let's get to work."_

At her signal, a Keldorei mage stepped forward. Tristen watched her disinterested before turning his attention to the young Dwarf assigned to provide him travel accommodations. "Frannie, the bell is safe in Darnassus now. Let's go report to Admiral Taylor."

* * *

Nazgrim was in a foul mood. He received word the Alliance had found the Divine Bell first. A spy had overheard of Alliance plans to move it to Darnassus. He knew the Warchief's orders. He was to acquire it at all costs. "Dawnblade!" he bellowed.

Caeden responded at once. "Yes Sir," he reported. To the General, he was a dutiful and loyal Horde soldier.

Nazgrim looked the Blood Elf Paladin over. He personally disliked the elves. They were too...soft for his taste. _"Caeden. You'll do perfectly. We know where the Alliance has hidden the Divine Bell. We've already inserted an agent into enemy territory, we just need you to help him execute his mission. Pack up, Caeden. You're headed to Darnassus."_

Caeden was unhappy. He wanted to head to Silvermoon. But instead he was up in a tree, awaiting further orders. He didn't have to wait long._ "Caeden! So glad Nazgrim selected you. It's taken a great deal of the Horde's effort to get you here through Jaina's traps. Maintaining our illusion this close to Darnassus is considerably expensive. Furthermore, the Sunreavers of Dalaran are risking their neutrality by assisting the Horde with this operation. In other words, we expect only the best from you." Fanlyr Silverthorn said as way of a greeting. The Divine Bell is in the city. We don't want to cause a scene, we just want the artifact. I need you to find a way in without getting caught. That means no mounts, no flying and no fighting. I can provide aid. I will magically cloak you, so you may move with stealth. I will also give you a small charm that you may use to return to safety should you get in trouble. Now go, Caeden, go locate the Bell and tag it to be teleported back with you."_

* * *

Caeden was now sure he hated the water. As a child, he had always liked the water but now, he was reconsidering. He entered the city easy enough. He very carefully walked past two Sentinels when they were distracted by a Worgen asking for directions. He waited in the shadow of a tree until a Darnassus Ancient Protector and group of Sentinels rode past. He started down a small path past the Moonwell that led behind the Warrior's terrace towards the Cenarion Enclave but froze. Sitting behind one of the shops was a small group of heavily armed warriors, just sitting and talking. Thinking quickly, Caeden felt his best solution would be to swim.

At the time, he thought it was a good idea. Now, as he swam sluggishly through the water as the weight of his armor weighed him down. He debated leaving it behind but should the stealth spell break, he would be glad for it. Caeden knew where the bell was hidden, he just had to get there. Hugging the shoreline of the various islands and structures that were sunk into the lake, he made it to the main shore near the Howling Oak and the Cenarion Enclave.

Dodging past the Darnassian protectors and the Saber handler, Caeden made a run for the tree the Druids used as their main gathering place. Once underground, Caeden started to breathe more easily. He slipped past the rogue trainer that was at the bottom of the passageway by sheer luck. He wasn't expecting her to be there and he didn't want to have to kill her. Looking at her twin daggers reminded him of the human woman in Silvermoon. He slipped past and jumped down, landing quietly in front of the Mogu artifact. Reaching out, Caeden touched the bell, activating the beacon he placed on it before activating his own teleportation beacon.

Caeden swayed a bit when his feet touched solid earth. He always hated using teleportation but he rather teleport out then have to sneak through Darnassus yet again.

_Fanlyr was ecstatic. "Well executed Caeden! I knew we could count on you. Now to get off this wretched tree. The portal by my side will return you safely to Domination Point. I will return behind you. I must clean up our tracks a bit before we leave, so that Proudmoore doesn't discover our involvement."_

Caeden was done with Teldressil and wanted to be home in the forests of Eversong. He nodded to Fanlyr and took the portal back to Pandaria.

Nazgrim greeted him at once, "You found the bell! And Fanlyr teleported it to Silvermoon for study as instructed?" Caeden was too tired to do anything but nod. Nazgrim continued, "The Horde will put this to good use. You have done the Horde a great service today. Lok'tar, friend."

Caeden, despite how exhausted he was, did not rest. He headed to the Veil of Eternal Blossoms. He would find a portal to Silvermoon. As much as he wanted to go back to the city and see the rogue he had grown fond of, he was falling asleep on his feet. Paying the Pandarian innkeeper, Caeden rested.


	6. The Fall of the Kirin Tor

**A/N: What better way to celebrate a story telling convention than by getting another chapter out. Well..and procrastinating the work I really need to be doing.**

**Text in italics is directly lifted from the lore text in the game. It belongs to Blizzard. It's theirs, not mine and I just borrow the sandbox nicely every once in a while.**

**Impsy Locke: I'll take a cupcake. Is it chocolate? Cupcakes are only good if its chocolate. =) And sleep. Sleep now would be good.**

* * *

"The Human woman. Wrynn's emissary." Caeden's eyes went wide hearing Aethas' statement to the Regent Lord. He had heard the anger in Lor'themar's voice when informed of the actions happening to his people in Dalaran. He witnessed the wrath Rommath unleashed on the members of the Alliance, both civilian and Silver Covenant. Nyte would be held as a hostage, a political pawn to be used. Her life in exchange for the Sunreavers held in the Violet Hold. But that plan was fraught with risks. When or if those Blood Elven Magi were released, Nyte may find herself suffering from an accident or suddenly falling ill. That is if Garrosh Hellscream didn't demand her first. Caeden disliked magic users in general but usually took them at their words. Aethas Sunreaver, however, bothered him.

Caeden bolted for Nyte's quarters. He rounded the corner and stopped short. The sight that greeted him caused his heart to sink. Nyte, clad in simple breeches and a flowing blouse, was held firmly by two Farstriders. She was cooperating but wore a look of confusion on her face. She looked over to the Paladin in surprise.

Caeden's fingers twitched as he reached for his sword.

* * *

Tristen sat across the table, looking at the man on the other side, wondering if not for the first time, if the world had suddenly gone insane. He was summoned back to Krassarang Wilds to meet with Admiral Taylor. SI:7, it seemed, had another job for him. He blinked and returned his focus back to Taylor.

_"As you know, our night elven allies moved the Divine Bell you retrieved to Darnassus for safekeeping and study. Moments ago, they portaled some Highbourne mages over here to ask for backup. Details are hazy - some sort of stealth attack on the city? I don't know what to make of it, but Jaina Proudmoore is already on the scene and I suspect they need all the help they can get."_ Taylor explained as best he could.

"If it was the Horde, they would have attacked Darnassus in force." Tristen countered, mentally going over facts in his head.

Taylor simply shrugged. "Details were lacking. Lady Proudmoore will explain further. A mage is waiting to take you to Teldressil." Taylor stated. "Assist in any way you can. Those are your orders."

* * *

"Dawnblade!" a rough Orcish voice barked, bringing Caeden back to reality. He was asleep in his room at the Pandarian inn. He blinked a few times as the world came back into focus. A Kor'kron messenger stood in the doorway. "Report to Grand Magister Rommath. He is waiting for you downstairs."

Caeden growled and muttered curses in Thalassian. "What did Rommath want," he wondered. He quickly dressed, running a hand through his rich blonde hair.

Caeden trudged his way downstairs. At the foot of the stairs Grand Magister Rommath stood, his face covered by armor. He nodded at Caeden,_ "Champion Dawnblade, The Sunreavers aided the Horde in retrieving the Divine Bell, which was stored in Darnassus, so the Alliance are expelling the Sunreavers from Dalaran. We will attempt to save as many as we can,"_ he said by way of explanation as he opened the portal to Dalaran.

Caeden sighed. He had hoped to be back in Silvermoon by evening. He had a dinner planned involving a human rogue and a secluded courtyard overlooking the channel to Quel'danas. Instead, he was going to freezing Northrend.

* * *

For the second time in a little over a month, Tristen sat in the Purple Parlor. Jaina Proudmoore, Leader of the Kirin Tor, once a figure with shining golden hair, was pacing before him. In the time since Theramore, more then just her outward appearance changed. Her hair went from the color of gold to bone white save for a single lock. She no longer was an outspoken advocate for peace but was instead filled with pain and hatred of the Horde. After what she had experienced, Tristen didn't blame her but didn't always agree with her methods.

_"At the scene of the crime, we found traces of arcane magic... I had Darnassus locked down! Every fumbling rogue that tried to sneak into the city, I caught them! I snatched every two-bit charlatan that attempted to teleport through my traps! They couldn't possibly have gotten through... this was an inside job. Those portals connect to Dalaran. That means the Kirin Tor... my own Kirin Tor... helped the Horde commit this atrocity. I will not be betrayed again! Those responsible for this will be punished! We will get to the bottom of this. We'll search every inch of this city if we have to, but we'll find out how they took the bell. I've decided. Certain members of the Kirin-Tor have put their allegiance to the Horde above the order, and I will not tolerate it. This is nothing short of a betrayal." _Jaina's beautiful blue eyes flared with rage and pain._ "Come with me, Tristen. We're going to clean up Dalaran."_

* * *

Caeden adjusted his armor, clicking it into place and hefted his sword. He and Rommath stood in the entrance to the sewers leading to the underbelly of Dalaran. As Caeden surveyed the passage, Rommath briefed him on the situation, _"I have it on good authority that Archmage Aethas Sunreaver is being held in the Silver Enclave, home of the Silver Covenant. Arcanist Rathaella holds him in captivity. Most Covenant agents are out slaughtering Sunreavers right now, which means our chance is ripe. Slay Rathaella, and spring Aethas from his prison."_

Caeden nodded, acknowledging the order. He disliked killing. He understood the necessity but disliked the action. Sunreavers, many of whom took no part in the Bell theft, were being slaughtered for his actions. Closing his eyes, he prayed to the Light for direction. As a warm sensation infused him, he knew saving as many as he can with taking as few lives as possible would be his atonement for his actions in Darnassus. He charged down the tunnel and into the underbelly proper. Swinging his sword, he cut through many of the attacking Silver Covenant members. For every body he saw fall to his blade, he whispered a prayer for them.

Many others fell to Rommath's spells. _"We will continue saving Sunreavers for a while longer. Aethas' location may become clearer as we press on. Any pretense that the Kirin Tor might have had at being a "neutral" group can officially be discarded. I'm now hearing that Jaina's got Alliance troops stowed away near Antonidas Memorial."_ Rommath said in disgust as they fought their way to the tunnel leading up into the city proper. _"The area's free of Sunreavers, but it still makes my blood boil to see such blatant favoritism from the Kirin Tor." _

Caeden and Rommath pushed towards the Silver Covenant. Caeden faltered at the sight of a human mage, proudly defending her home to her last breath.. Rommath had entered ahead of him and was engaged in combat with Arcanist Rathaella. The High Elf currently had the upper hand but Rommath was quickly wearing her down. Caeden parried a blow from a Night Elf warrior, presumably sent by the Alliance to exterminate the Sunreavers from the city. He felt his knees buckle as a dagger drove deep into his side. He wheeled about and brought up his shield, slamming a human rogue in the face. The man's nose shattered as he stumbled back. Caeden uttered a curse in Thalassian and charged at him, driving the rogue back. The rogue shadow stepped and was gone. Breathing hard, Caeden called upon the light to heal his wounds.

Rommath was covered in blood and had a look of enjoyment on his face as he rejoined Caeden on the streets of Dalaran. _"It unsettles me to have to fight directly with the high elves of the Silver Covenant... but I never tire of slaying Alliance." _Caeden was disgusted at the joy Rommath took.

* * *

Tristen stood next to the High Elf Vereesa Windrunner, surveying the scene before him. Bodies laid cut down where they fell, either by his blade or by others._ "Jaina's doing a good job taking care of Sunreavers above ground, but there's still plenty rooting around in the sewers. Go find those lying rats and exterminate them! Most shopkeepers in the Magus Commerce Exchange have sided with the Silver Covenant, but there remain a few holdouts that must be taken care of."_

Tristen turned to the woman as she showed him a list of names written on parchment_. "They will not go easily. While I can't say I agree completely with Jaina's methods, I do understand her motives. Sometimes, you have to fight back."_

"I understand," Tristen replied, checking the poison on his daggers. He took no glee in the killing. Many of the Sunreavers were fleeing or unarmed. Veressa cut them down without a second thought. Tristen had to follow. He was lightly armored and use to sneak attacks. For him, many times it was kill or be killed. His duties in SI:7 were mostly observation and intel gathering. While trained to kill, it was something he did not enjoy doing. Especially not those running for their lives and not fighting back.

Vereesa caught his gaze, _"The Sunreaver's Sanctuary is still crawling with those Horde-loving Sunreavers. Jaina will have sent the reasonable ones to the Violet Hold. The rest refuse to leave, raising their weapons against us. Show them the cost of their defiance. They now face the judgment of the Alliance, the Silver Covenant, and the Kirin Tor! This is a bloody day, Caeden, and this is bloody work. But do not forget what the Sunreavers did to bring this on: They used neutral Kirin Tor resources to aid the Horde in their fight against the Alliance. Do not hesitate to believe that they would do the same to us, given the chance. Compliant Sunreavers will be sent to the Violet Hold. Defiant ones are put to the sword. None are to escape."_

Several hours later, Tristen was exhausted. He was battling near the Silver Convent. He had watched from his vantage point in the shadows as two Sin'dorei entered. One appeared to be wearing the scarlet robes of a mage, the other was wearing the plate mail of a Paladin. He shadow stepped to behind the Paladin and drive his dagger deep into his side.

The Paladin yelled and wheeled around bringing his shield up. Tristen jumped back but his exhaustion was making him slow. He caught the full force of the shield to the face as his nose shattered. He danced back, slipping into the shadows. He lost that round to the Horde but he would not lose the next.

Tristen was drinking a healing potion he took from his belt when Veressa caught up to him. The High Elf looked pleased with the carnage. _"The Sunreavers keep their dragonhawk mounts on Krasus' Landing. Take this dust, and use it to render them incapable of flying. Or kill them. I don't care. Now, the Sunreavers have to answer to us. Jail or death - their fate is in their own hands." _She handed him the powder. "Those scum will pay for what they did to my family." She said before turning on her heels.

Tristen could feel for her. She had lost her beloved in the cowardly attack on Theramore. Archmage Rhonin sacrificed himself to ensure she and others would survive. He knew Veressa was in pain. He had seen the acts Nyte had committed to keep herself from feeling the pain of Tae'thelon's betrayal. She headed down a dark road but, from what Shaw had told him, was in the process of returning to herself. Tristen wondered how far Veressa would go before she came to terms with her pain.

* * *

Caeden rested while he could. Rommath was panting for breath, draining his mana pool in his attacks, _"We can rescue as many Sunreavers as we want, but if they can't escape, then there's no point. The Silver Covenant will certainly be subduing and killing the Sunreavers' dragonhawks. Put a stop to it. I will continue to rescue our people." _

Caeden had only been to Dalaran once before. He had taken the Wyvern from Howling Fjord and had only remained in the city a few hours. Now his unfamiliarity with the city delayed him. In his confusion, he encountered several Silver Covenant members. He closed his eyes, asking forgiveness from the Light as he defended himself from the attacks. Limping from his shattered knee, he made his way to Krasus' landing.

* * *

Tristen had just subdued the last Dragonhawk. He hated to kill these magnificent beasts. It was a waste of a resource that could be used. He heard a clink of plate mail behind him and stood face to face with the Blood Elf Paladin from earlier.

The Sin'dorei Paladin grinned a bit at the sight of Tristen. "Needing to improve your looks again Rogue?"

Tristen returned his grin. "I think yours will improve with a second smile...from ear to ear."

Caeden lifted his sword and saluted the rogue. "Shall we?"

Slipping into stealth, Tristen gripped his daggers tightly and circled back around the Paladin looking for weaknesses in his armor.

Keeping a wary eye on the rogue, Caeden called down a hammer of light, stunning the Alliance member. While he was dazed, Caeden lunged in, bringing his sword down on the rogue.

Tristen recovered quickly, having been familiar with that particular Paladin trick before. He rolled out of the way of the incoming swing and kicked the Paladin hard in the knee. The Paladin went down with a grunt.

Caeden swore. "Belore!" he growled as he called upon the Light to heal his knee quickly. The rogue was good and smashed Caeden in the temple, disorientating him. His spell was quickly broken.

Tristen's knife was at the Paladin's throat. He knew the kick to the already broken knee was a cheap shot. He held the weapon to his throat, trying to still his hand. He was exhausted.

The Paladin froze, feeling the blade to his throat. He had a few more tricks he could throw at the rogue but the rogue would be able to open his throat. He could hear the rogue's heavy breathing. It seemed the rogue was just as tired as he was.

Tristen held the knife there. He thought of Celine and the treatment of the High Elves in Dalaran before. The Sunreavers did steal the bell and betrayed Jaina Proudmoore. But this Paladin did not. He brought the knife down. "You fought well," he said in accented Thalassian.

Caedin blinked as the knife was removed. "Thank you," he said hesitantly in the same language. Something about the way the rogue spoke Thalassian was oddly familiar. The rogue extended a hand to him and helped him up.

Caedin took the rogue's hand and met the human's gaze. "Another time perhaps."

The rogue grinned, his face warming up. "Anytime you want to get your behind kicked back to Silvermoon, look me up in Stormwind." He saluted and stealthed off.

Caedin shook his head in surprise. Seems not all Alliance members were into slaughtering Horde. He healed his knee and made his way towards the Sunreaver's Sanctuary and Rommath.

"Tristen!" he heard his name called. Turning he saw Lady Proudmoore. "Those lying rats are turning to run."

Tristen pasted a smile on his face, "They are afraid. We will cleanse this city of the traitors."

Jaina smiled, "Good man."

As she continued her patrol, Tristen thought about what he had said. There was a traitor or traitors in the city. He was certain of that. Yet he had let a Blood Elf go unhindered. He worried for Celine. She was deep in Sin'dorei territory without backup. He prayed that he would not be the one to have to bury her.

* * *

Rommath hailed Caedin, as Caedin made his way towards Runeweaver square. _"There's still a number of significant Sunreavers who haven't been accounted for. Odds are that they're in the Sunreaver's Sanctuary, caught by surprise. The place is crawling with Silver Covenant. We've looked everywhere he's likely to be, except for one place: the Violet Citadel. Find out if Archmage Aethas is being held within the citadel, Caedin. We may get lucky. If not... at least we saved a number of lives today. I will evacuate the VIPs from the Sunreaver's Sanctuary. Find Aethas and use this to get out." _He handed Caedin a Blood Elf artifact.

"Al diel shala" Caedin said as he took the orb from Rommath.

* * *

Tristen stood by the fountain in Dalaran with Vereesa. _"Thank you for your aid today, Tristen. I will be handling the purge from here on out. Jaina will soon be off to Lion's Landing, to speak with King Varian. She asked for your attendance. I can't fault you for following orders. In fact, I can't really fault Jaina for acting on her own behalf, for once. But still... we aren't playing a game here. We are dealing with war, with people's lives, with the future of the Alliance itself. At the very least, we now have the Kirin Tor on our side. Today will be remembered by all as a victory for the Alliance. The Kirin Tor mages have opened a portal to Lion's Landing in the Hero's Welcome."_

"Lady Windrunner.." Tristen started to speak but suddenly was at a lost as the High Elven ranger turned and looked at him. "I am sorry for..." he started to say something else but paused, "your loss."

Vereesa looked away painfully. "Thank you," she replied her voice thick with emotion.

* * *

Calling down the Light, Caeden fought his way into the Violet Citadel. He struggled with incapacitating the Alliance members. He had enough blood on his hands and didn't need to have more. He subdued the last of the guards holding Aethas Sunreaver captive.

Freeing his hands, Caeden knelt before the Archmage. "Archmage Sunreaver?" He asked.

Aethas stirred slightly, _"Is this... Caeden? What's going on here?"_

Caeden helped him to his feet. "Jaina Proudmoore is purging the city of all Sunreavers. Grand Magister Rommath has arranged for teleportation to Silvermoon." Aethas weakly nodded, as Caeden helped him out of his prison and to safety.

* * *

King Varian Wrynn looked up at the familiar sound of a teleport. Jaina Proudmoore and Tristen Atherton stepped through. _"Jaina! What's happening in Dalaran? Has there been an attack?"_ Varian exclaimed, surprised to see them both there.

Jaina laughed bitterly, _"The Kirin Tor was betrayed from within. I've handled the situation."_ Tristen stepped aside giving the two privacy. He moved to where Shaw was standing.

_"How?"_ Varian asked.

_"I've purged the Horde from Dalaran. You have what you wanted, Your Majesty: The Kirin Tor belongs to the Alliance." _Jaina's voice was cold and bitter.

Varian was surprised, _"But you said-"_

Again, Jaina laughed that bitter laugh._ "I know what I said. My trust was misplaced."_

Varian became worried. He knew what depths grief could bring a person to but Jaina had always been the more level headed one. "_What of the Sin'dorei - the Sunreavers?"_

_"Those that surrendered are being taken to the Violet Hold. I make no guarantees about those who chose to fight." _Tristen flinched at her words. He knew how many that chose to fight had been put to death. Many by his own hand.

_"Jaina, you need to talk to me before you act-"_ Varian exclaimed, suddenly agitated. Jaina's actions upset plans already in motion.

_"How I run the Kirin Tor is my business."_ She scoffed.

Varian was aghast. _"I was trying to negotiate with the Sin'dorei. I was opening discussions to bring them into the Alliance! By attacking their people, you've forced their hand-"_

Jaina dismissed his comment, _"They chose their own path."_

_"Jaina, you've driven them back to the Horde. Lor'themar was willing to ally with us against the Horde." _Varian tried to appeal to Jaina's reason.

_"You're fooling yourself. Once Horde, always Horde. I see that now. I'm mobilizing the Kirin Tor." _Jaina was determined.

Varian tried another tactic. His voice softened, _"Jaina. We've got to work together on this. The Alliance must act as one."_

_"Don't get soft on me, Varian." _Jaina growled as she strode out of is throne room.

Varian sighed and turned to Tristen and Shaw. "When is the last time your operative checked in?"

"Two days ago. She was reporting significant progress." Shaw responded.

Varian nodded. "That was before Dalaran. Recall her if you can safely. If not..." He paused. He hated having to make decisions like this. "If not, Lor'themar will be merciful at least. I don't want any more lives risked."

* * *

Halduron Brightwing looked up, seeing the new arrivals step out for the portal. Lor'themar rose from is seat and faced the three. Caeden Dawnblade and Grand Magister Rommath was supporting a very exhausted looking mage between them.

_"Aethas! You're alive!" _Lor'themar exclaimed.

_"Thanks to this hero, a few of us made it out of there. Many more have been sent to the Violet Hold."_ he replied wearily.

Lor'themar stated quiet loudly, _"Anar'alash denal! Will someone tell me what is going on in Dalaran?" _He was irritated at things happening around him and him being the last to know.

_"Proudmoore! She's gone and expelled the Sunreavers from the city. She's purging the Horde from the Kirin Tor!"_ Aethas explained, leaning against the wall for support.

_"She's gone too far. I'm certain the Alliance can move their war mages through the city at will. That human ... witch!"_ Hauldron looked up at that uncharacteristic outburst from Lor'themar. _"When will they learn? When will they see that the Horde exists BECAUSE of the Alliance? Because of their prejudice and their bigotry! They force us ever closer to Hellscream's Horde."_

_"My Lord..."_ Aethas interjected calmly. Lor'themar ignored him.

_"Halduron, summon the rangers. Rommath, assemble the Blood Magi, and add the Sunreavers' strength to your own. We Sin'dorei will take our future into our own hands."_ He barked orders, his gaze falling on the Divine Bell. _"And get this damn thing out of my sight! Hellscream bought this treasure with the blood of my people. I hope it destroys him."_

_"My Lord. YOU would make a fine Warchief."_ Rommath said, looking at Lor'themar with respect.

_"It may come to that. Bring me my blades. The next move is mine."_ Lor'themar turned and looked at Caeden,_ "Wherever your loyalties might lie - with Rommath and I, with Garrosh, or elsewhere - one thing is true: your acts today were truly heroic."_

"Thank you,"Caeden said with a bow of his head. He quietly excused himself from the room.

Aethas cleared his throat and turned to Lor'themar. "The human woman. Wrynn's emissary..." Halduran opened his mouth to object, but Lor'themar turned and gave him a sharp glare, effectively silencing him.

"Take her into custody. She may be valuable in negotiations but she is not to be harmed. We won't go to Lady Proudmoore's level." His voice was calm and level. He spoke to Aethas and Rommath, but kept his eyes trained on Halduron.

Halduron returned the look with a very slight nod. "I wish not to be disturbed," Lor'themar said as he turned on his heels and headed toward his study. He felt sick. His chance at peace had been shattered by betrayal once again.

* * *

Caeden's fingers twitched as he reached for his sword but a firm hand stopped him. He looked up. Ranger General Halduron Brightwing held his sword hand tightly. Without a word to Caeden, he addressed the Farstriders restraining Nyte. "Take her to Farstrider Square. The Regent Lord will question her. She is to have no visitors except the Regent and myself." His rangers saluted at once as the lead Nyte away.

Caeden jerked his hand away from Halduron's gasp. "She is not involved. Dalaran is Lady Proudmoore's doing."

"Do not think to speak to me in that tone Blood Knight." Halduron snapped, anger flashing on his face, "Many of my rangers were assigned to Lordaeron and we were fond of Celine. She will not be harmed as long as she remains under our custody and not the Magisters."

Caeden grew quiet and contemplated what Halduron had just said. "Who is she?" he asked quietly.

Halduron eyed him sharply, annoyance and a flash of protectiveness still on his features before turning on his heels and walking away without answering.


	7. Long Way from Home

**AN: Originally I wanted this story to run for 10 chapters. As I was writing this, I kept struggling with advancing the plot. I wanted to work on character development but yet make it fit in the allotted chapters. Finally, I decided to make it run as long as it needs to run. The next chapter is coming together nicely.**

**Impsy Locke: Yes. yes she is. Not as much as a certain Regent Lord of Quel'thalas will be in.**

* * *

Chapter Seven

Nyte leaned back on the cot, her eyes trained on the ceiling above her. She was in a holding cell. A clean, comfortable one, but a holding cell nevertheless. Lor'themar tried to make her as comfortable as possible but she still remained a prisoner of war. Her guards, she noted, were Farstriders. Many had been Farstriders from before the Third War. Occasionally, a Blood Knight or mage would be assigned to watch her but always with one of Halduron's rangers.

By her count, she had remained under custody for five days. She had been questioned by Lor'themar, Liadrin and Aethas. She wasn't able to give them any information that they wanted. After the first day, it became clear she was a hostage. As long as she remained that under Sin'dorei care in Silvermoon, her life was assured. If she was moved to Orgimmar, she would be tortured until she talked then tortured to death.

From somewhere outside, Nyte heard a heavy door swing open. She knew it would be time for the guards to change shift. Dinner would follow soon after. "I believe I'll have the lobster. With drawn butter," she commented, keeping her tone light.

"I'm afraid I don't have any lobster, but I do have the key. Would that suffice?," a voice from outside the door said. She heard the key turning in the lock as the door swung open. Caeden stood there, clad in dark clothing. He had his hood pulled up covering his bright golden hair.

"Caeden...what..." She started to say. He held up a hand to silence her.

"We need to hurry. I didn't encounter any guards. Doesn't mean they won't be coming soon. Here, put this one. Quickly," He handed her a heavy sack and turned his back to her.

"Caeden...Lor'themar won't be able to just let me go..." She started to argue with him.

Caeden turned and hissed at her, "Get dressed. Lor'themar is unable to protect you anymore. Vol'jin and the Darkspears are in open rebellion and many Alliance members have joined. Garrosh is demanding you be transferred to Orgimmar immediately. The Regent Lord is unable to protect you. Now...get...dressed...before I knock you unconscious and carry you out of here."

Nyte opened her mouth to argue but one look at his flashing green eyes caused her to shut it. If Garrosh wanted her, there was nothing Lor'themar could do. Any thought he had given to peace between the Sin'dorei and the Alliance was shattered by Jaina's actions in Dalaran. They only reason she was treated as well as she had been was due to her marriage to Tae'thelon Sundancer. She opened the sack and pulled out pieces of well made leather armor suitable for a rogue. It was black with gold edging. He included a full helm that covered her face and a voluminous cloak. The armor was very well made and was already enchanted with her particular skill set in mind. It must have cost Caeden a small fortune. She gasped softly as she put it on. It had been fitted perfectly to her.

Caeden heard the surprised gasp. He felt bad about his tone but neither one of them could afford to be caught escaping. "This fit you much better than your old armor. I hope you like it," he said softly, color jumping to his cheeks. Caeden had always been shy around women and absolutely flustered when it came to this woman. He felt embarrassed at the depth of the emotion he felt for her.

"It's beautiful," a voice said from directly behind him. The human stood there. He drew in a breath. In that armor, she looked even more beautiful. "Thank you," she said.

Caeden looked up sharply, hearing a sound from a distance. "We need to go," he said, grabbing her hand. The rogue slipped into stealth and followed behind him. He couldn't see her but he could hear here breathing.

A blur of movement and a flash of silver from a blade drew him up short. Nyte pulled in close behind him. Halduron Brightwing, Ranger General of Silvermoon, stood there blocking his path.

* * *

Tristen crumbled the paper in his hand. He clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles were turning white. "This is unacceptable," he growled, biting off each word.

Mathias Shaw watched Tristen closely. "The king will not negotiate for her release. Nor will he risk open war on two fronts to rescue her. Lord Theron assures her well being. He will not harm her."

"Until Proudmoore refuses to release the Sunreavers. Or starts executing them," Tristen paced the office.

Mathias lowered his voice, "You know he wouldn't. Lor'themar will not release her to anyone. She will be safe as long as she remains in Silvermoon. She was Sundancer's wife. Out of respect, they will not harm her."

Tristen scoffed, "Would you bet her life on that? Because that's what you are doing."

Mathias paused, "I will speak to Varian again. But she may remain at Lor'themar's mercy for the time being."

Tristen scowled, displeased with that answer. "I..."

"No!" Mathias snapped, "Leave this alone. That is an order."

* * *

"Anar'alah! Halduron, please..." Nyte said, stepping from behind Caeden. "Let me go."

Haldruon remained impassive. He looked the rogue once over, noting the new armor. This suited her better then Tae'thalon's old Ranger armor. He continued to look the both of them over. Dawnblade had grown very protective of her and by the way she was hiding behind him, she was allowing him to do so. Interesting. She had changed much in the years since Thalon's betrayal.

Caeden was growing impatient, one hand flexing on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

Halduron's eyes narrowed as the blunt end of his staff came up hard against Caeden's wrists. Caeden dropped the sword as his fingers went numb. "Caeden...no..." Nyte said, gently taking his hand, looking at the injury to it. After determining it was fine, she looked at Halduron intensely. A fleeting look passed between the two of them.

"I have delayed the guards for 15 minutes," He said as he stepped aside. "That should get you out of Silvermoon. I have hawkstriders waiting by the West Sanctum. The Farstriders will let you pass for 18 hours. That is as long as I can give you."

Nyte and Halduron locked gazes for a moment with intensity. Caeden couldn't read the emotions behind it but he knew whatever it was, it ran deep. "Thank you. And thank him for me."

Halduron smiled softly and extended a hand to Nyte. She took it, clasping his forearm. He returned the gesture then pulled her, surprisingly, into a tight embrace. He whispered something in her ear that made her blush. "Shorel'aran Celine."

"Shorel'aran Halduron." Nyte replied, tugging at the dumbstruck Paladin. "We need to go Caeden. Now."

Caeden shook his head, and led the way, occasionally glancing back. Halduron remained standing there, with a fond look on his face watching them leave.

* * *

"I assure you Warchief. We are looking for Nyte. Halduron has our best rangers, not already committed to the war efforts in Pandaria, searching for her." Lor'themar said in a cool voice. "She will be found and transported to Orgimmar immediately when she is." It had been roughly 10 hours since Nyte had escaped. Lor'themar was able to stall as long as he could but now he had to report in. He had given her as much of a lead as he could and he prayed to the Light that it was enough. She was resourceful in her own right and familiar with the land. Dawnblade it seemed, as he expected, had gone with her. It seemed Caeden had already made it up his mind when it came to the human spy and Lor'themar suspected that Dawnblade's feelings may in fact be returned.

"See to it that it is soon. I will not tolerate incompetence. Lok'tar ogar" Garrosh snapped. He was angry of course. But Nyte wasn't a key figure. She was just an Alliance soldier with little new intelligence. Her escape was more of an insult to him and his competence than anything. But she was Alliance and capturing any Alliance a jab to King Varian Wrynn.

As soon as the communication portal was closed, Lor'themar looked over to his advisors. "Securing our foothold in Pandaria takes precedence over one individual. Continue to search for her but I want our forces redirected to this new island. Aethas, Rommath, you will join Halduron and myself on this Island of Thunder. We will lead our assault from there. I will recall Halduron and we will leave shortly," the Regent Lord said as he strode away.

* * *

"Give me a charger any day," Caeden grumbled as he struggled with remaining on his Hawkstrider's saddle. He wanted to continue on foot but had to admit the creatures covered more ground then they would have been able to on foot.

Nyte chuckled, "Having trouble there?" She rode her Hawkstrider smoothly. Halduron went to a great deal of trouble to procure the two and the meager supplies that was hidden with them. She owed him a great debt of gratitude for that.

"I am a Paladin. We charge into battle of a fearless charger..not a oversized bird." Caeden sniffed with a slight bit of arrogance in his voice. He shifted in the saddle, trying to get comfortable.

"Spoken like a true Blood Knight. However, I am a rogue and we use whatever means are at our disposal. Including borrowed Hawkstriders. But what I wouldn't give to have my old Thalassaian steed right about now." Nyte's voice grew thick with emotion.

Caeden was quiet watching her closely. A new crack had appeared in her façade. "You know Quel'thalas well then," he said softly. He had gathered enough information from watching her and her interaction with the Sin'dorei in the capital to know she had much more then a simple passing familiarity with the elves.

"I was a frequent guest here. It was during the Second War and immediately after. My duties to Lordaeron brought me into contact with the Rangers and the Convocation quite often." Nyte expertly guided the animal up through Goldenbough Pass. She remembered spending many a day at the shore not far from here. Thalon, was for the most part, stationed at Sunsail Anchorage. He loved the ocean, despite his horrible seasickness. They had often talked of when they would retire to a home overlooking the sea. Nyte had not been back to this particular area since…since Dalaran.

"Tell me about it…" Caeden asked, with curiosity in his voice. He had ridden closer to her, now riding beside her.

Nyte looked back and shook her head, "No…not yet. It still…the memories are too raw.." She replied, flustered. She struggled with her own feelings toward the Sin'dorei Paladin. She found herself falling for him but the pain of Thalon's betrayal was still fresh in her mind. She wasn't willing to let go just yet.

"I grew up near Suncrown Village. The youngest of two. My sister was a mage. She studied in Dalaran. I felt a connection to the light at a young age. When…when the Sunwell was destroyed I was in Stormwind. I returned immediately after."

Nyte looked back at the young Paladin. "I'm sorry. Those were….Arthas' deeds can never been atoned for." Her breath hitched when he mentioned Dalaran. There was a possibility his sister was one of the mages slain by Kael'thas' forces. Or Arthas'.

"You knew him then. Arthas. You are from Lordaeron."

"Aye I knew the Prince. I was Teranas' spy master for many years. I watched Arthas grow to a young man and I watched him fall. He thought he was protecting his people" Nyte said sadly, "Like Kael'thas."

"Kae…When the Sunwell was corrupted, the loss hit me hard. I had a strong connection to the Light and now I was without. I….I was becoming a Wretched when Lady Liadrin founded the order. She did what she could to save as many as she could. Whatever the Farstriders think of us, we did what we had to do to survive. M'uru gave his life for ours."

Nyte shivered and it had nothing to do with the temperature. "We should camp. Once we cross the river, we can camp near Goldenmist Village for the night."

Caeden nodded his agreement. His anger towards the Farstriders and them looking down upon the methods the Blood Knights used was coloring his tone. He knew Nyte was very close to the Farstiders and risked pushing her away. However, she found a reason to change the subject. He had a feeling it was making her as uncomfortable as it was him.

* * *

"General," Ranger Krenn'an called as he respectfully bowed. Haldruon motioned for him to rise and continued to scan the horizon. "We have found no signs of the prisoner. Ranger Lethvalin reports that she did not pass through Tranquillian."

Halduron nodded, "She is skilled. She would not easily make mistakes. She would remain off the road and in the woods. Our sources have her heading towards Zul'Aman. She will take a flight from there. We need to cut her off before she does."\ Halduron had his rangers retracing the steps Nyte took to get to Silvermoon. If she was smart, she had found the Hawkstriders he left for her and was heading towards The Plaguelands now.

"General!" A breathless voice called. Halduron turned at the sound. A runner approached, wet with sweat and exertion. He handed the runner his water flask and wanted until she had caught her breath."The Regent Lord wishes your return to Silvermoon. Immediately. Sir."

Halduron turned to Krenn'an. "Zul'aman. Find her." He said as he turned to the runner. "I will return with you."

* * *

"It's not much, but its edible I assure you," Caeden said as he handed Nyte a plate of fish. He watched her as she secured a campsite and quickly made a fire. The nights were chilly and being in the open, it would get colder. Something about Goldenmist Village made her uneasy. She swore she had heard whispers in Thalassian. Caeden didn't have the heart to tell her what her eyes didn't see. The village was overrun with Quel'dorei spirits, victims from the Orcs onslaught of the land. He had found a clearing close by that was acceptable as an overnight camp. She was nerverous still but was more at ease now.

She took the plate and thanked him. She ate in silence. Since her brief moment of speaking in Goldenbough Pass, she had closed herself off again. He had attempted to get her to speak again but she only answered direct questions in the briefest way possible.

"Answer me something truthfully," Caeden spoke. "In Silvermoon…." He paused, trying to think of how to ask.

"You want to know why Lor'themar allowed us to leave? And why Halduron helped us." She completed for him. She knew he had been wondering and sooner or later he was going to get the courage to ask.

"Yes." He put his plate down and looked at her. Her body language grew tense as if the memory itself was painful.

"My duties for Teranas took me to Silvermoon often. I met a Quel'dorei Ranger, Tae'thalon Sundancer." Nyte spoke quietly, her voice distant.

"You married." Caeden said when she hesitated.

She nodded, "We married. I became close to many of the Farstriders as a result. My superiors in Stormwind knew of my history with Lor'themar. That was why I was sent here."

She picked up her fork and picked gently at the fish. "Thalon betrayed his people with Kael'thas. I was with him in Dalaran when Kael'thas fled with the Naga. The Stormwind Assassins took me in. I owe them my life."

Caeden gently took the plate from her hands. He moved closer to her, sitting in front of her. He gently reached out and raised her head, looking in her eyes. "His deeds are not yours. Let the past go."

He looked deep into her green eyes. He held his breath taking in her features. The long lashes, the slight dimples when she smiled, her full lips. Leaning forward, he took the risk and gently captured her lips with his.


	8. The Beginning of the End

Nyte could feel the soft wind on her bare skin as she awoke. She was snuggled under an Embersilk blanket, the sound of the woods bringing her into full consciousness. Caeden, beside her, shifted in his sleep and pulled her closer to his body. Nyte smiled at the comfortable soreness and the memory of last night and snuggled closer to the Paladin. The wind stirred her hair and she shivered. She sat up suddenly, remembering where she was. Caeden sat up beside her, groggy still from sleep.

"What is it?" he asked drowsily.

"We need to get going. Something's…wrong." She said, pushing off the blanket. She was clad in her shirt and breeches and quickly started to don her armor.

Caeden started breaking camp quietly. "Nyte…about last night…"

Nyte cut him off, "We need to get off this road. We need to get to Thalassian pass soon. I can't explain it but we need to move." She softened, "Last night…I don't regret it."

* * *

Pulling up his hood, Tristen stepped from the ram and into the warm metallic scented air of Ironforge. He had procured the plate armor of a warrior as his disguise. Shaw had forbidden him from going after Nyte. But Nyte was the closet thing he had to family and he couldn't leave her fate up to chance.

He and Nyte been close over the years. They had been friends, allies, partners and occasionally lovers since she arrived in Stormwind. He had been a thief in Anderhol when the city fell to the undead. Fleeing his home, he came to Stormwind and was recruited by the assassins guild.

Nyte, he knew, was King Teranas's spymaster. He knew she was in Silvermoon when Arthas destroyed the city and managed to escape the destruction in Lordaeron. But he knew little of how she was recruited other then she was in the Violet Hold of Dalaran awaiting execution when Shaw and King Varian recruited her for their own purposes.

She had only spoken of it once. It was during Winter Veil and Nyte had more than her share of Greatfather's Winter Ale. As they had laid tangled in each other, she cried out in Thalassian. After, when asked, she told him of her husband, a Quel'dorei ranger. And his actions and her arrest in Dalaran. After that night, she never spoke of it again. To his knowledge, she also never returned to Silvermoon or Quel'thalas either. Until now.

Once again she was a captive to a situation beyond her control. He worried for her, He was putting his career and possibly his life on the line. But she was his friend. Procuring a ram from the stable master, Tristen headed north towards Arathi and eventually the pass that would take him into Quel'thalas.

* * *

They rode in silence. They were nearing Deatholme. The closer they got to Lordaeron, the more closed off she became. Occasionally, he would reach out and take her hand, squeezing it in reassurance.

"You need to return to Silvermoon soon. They will suspect you of helping me." She said, finally breaking the silence.

"Let them." He said sharply, his tone surprising him. "How do you do it?" He asked suddenly.

"Hmm?" Nyte looked over to him confused. Since they broke camp, both had been lost in thier own thoughts.

"Killing. How do you do it?" Caeden asked, quite bluntly. Since Dalaran and his actions there, it had been bothering him.

To his surprise, Nyte laughed harshly. "Do you think that I am an assassin for hire? Killing for coin?"

The tone of her voice was venomous. She was angry at what she obviously felt was an attack on her but also something else. He swore he heard self-hatred in her tone. "I was in Dalaran on orders. You know Lady Proudmore expelled the Sunreavers from the city. For something, they didn't do. I was tasked with getting as many to safety as possible. I saw the Silver Covenant members slaughter the Horde in the city as they were fleeing. I understand killing is necessary. I am not a pacifist but I don't know how people like Aethas can enjoy it."

Nyte was quiet, thinking about his words. "I cannot speak for others and I do not know Aethas well enough to speak for him but killing and death is often a part of duty. But not everyone enjoys it. I am a rogue, a member of SI:7. Sometimes, a lot of times, I kill people in back alleys. Horde and Alliance. I never had enjoyed it.

Caeden reined in his hawkstrider to a halt and turned in the saddle. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he drew her close to him, kissing her passionately.

Nyte was shocked at the emotion in the kiss. He clung to her desperately. She felt herself returning the kiss just as passionately, melting to his touch. He reluctantly broke the kiss, leaning his head against hers.

"I can't chose sides anymore. It's tearing me apart. This whole war. Come with me. We can go to Shattrath. A'dal will accept us. But I can't pretend I enjoy killing just because the other side is Alliance."

Nyte's breath hitched in her throat.

* * *

Tristen had ridden hard from Ironforge. By now Shaw would have discovered his letter. Shaw would be furious but if he could return with Nyte, he could be forgiven. Nyte was a valuable asset. If the war in Pandaria was going to get worst, her experience would be needed. His ram was starting to tire but he didn't let it rest. He needed to get to the pass and into the Ghostlands. As he passed next to a rock overhang, the ram reared up, throwing him off to the ground.

Tristen jumped to his feet, weapons at ready. He hadn't heard nor seen his attacker but he knew someone was there. Narrowing his eyes, Tristen searched for the other rogue. He heard a noise and a blur of fabric to his left. He lunged, his daggers meeting empty air as he felt a heavy blow land on the back of his head.

Tristen stumbled to his knees. He threw a handful of dirt in the direction of his opponent.

He didn't see the second blow coming until the dirt rose up to meet his face. A third blow knocked him out cold.

* * *

"If you go, you'd be branded a traitor at least and hunted by Hellscream's goon squad at most. That is not a life. To be always on the run. Always watching for assassins ready to take you out." Nyte said sharply, then her voice softened. "Always on the move, always on guard, never really free."

She paused, "Caeden...I..." she didn't know what to say.

Caeden looked away. The hesitation in her voice was enough. He turned away from her and rode on ahead. A soft tug on his cloak caught his attention.

Nyte looked down, her eyes shaded by her hood. "If you wish to leave the Horde, there are other ways. Ways that will let u...you live in peace." Her voice cracked on the last words and Caeden swore he saw unshed tears in her beautiful eyes. "But not until Garrosh Hellscream is gone from the position of Warchief." Her voice had grown hard again.

* * *

Erion Shadewhisper laid flat on the rock, watching. He had gotten his orders to keep an eye out for a human agent by the name of Celine. He didn't know her as she rarely traveled to Kalimdor and he to Stormwind. From his orders, her safe arrival in Alliance held lands was high priority.

He watched the human woman ride in silence with the Paladin. She didn't appear to be a captive. In fact, both were dressed alike but one was most definitely a Blood Elf. He continued to watch as the Paladin stopped, then kissed the woman. His brows rose. That was certainly interesting. He watched her body language. Yes most interesting. Shaw would need to know at once.

Erion slid off the rock and hurried to his mount.

* * *

Shaw watched as Tristen stirred. Tristen, one of his best agents, had defied him. Shaw knew he would. Just as Shaw would not attempt to try to bring Celine back. He had an agent looking for her now. But he had a lesson he needed to teach Tristen. Celine, was without a doubt, Tristen's biggest weakness.

A boot to the ribs woke Tristen. He jerked away but only was able to move a little before something drew him up short. He looked down at the heavy chains on his hands.

"I really wouldn't," Shaw said dryly.

Tristen groaned hearing his voice. He closed his eyes and waited for the lecture.

"I am disappointed. I gave you a direct order and you disobeyed. You placed two agents in danger. If you were caught, it could escalate an already tense situation."

"We don't leave anyone behind," Tristen said defensively.

"A noble sentiment. I wasn't aware you started following a more nobler cause. Had you joined the Argent Crusade when I wasn't looking?" Shaw's voice was cold.

"Celine is in danger." Tristen retorted. She was most definitely his biggest weakness.

Shaw was infuriated, "You put her in more danger! Lor'themar let her escape. Your actions have been noticed by the Warchief. Do you think for a moment I would leave her there if I thought she would be killed. **I** was given permission for a rescue. I was. Not you. Consider yourself lucky that I haven't thrown you in the stockades."

"Master Shaw," a voice called. Tristen turned to look at the newcomer. He was a Night Elf.

Shaw looked at Tristen with disgust. "We are not finished," he said as he moved away to speak to the Night Elf.

* * *

Caeden could feel the wall between them. Nyte was pushing back. He was serious about leaving the Horde. He wanted the red haired rogue by his side.

Despite what she had said, the previous night had been a mistake. She was scared. He remembered the way her body melted into his, the way her movements matched his. She had a passion he never had seen in other women before.

In the light of the dawn, came the second thoughts. She was frightened by him. He glanced over to her. She rode in silence, looking ahead, her body tense. He started to reach for her hand but stopped. She glanced at him, curious.

Nyte looked at Caeden. She knew she hurt him. He wanted her to come with him to Shattrath. His offer was more than an offer of company. It was deeper. More than anything, she wanted to say yes and fall into his arms but couldn't. She wanted peace – a quiet life.

Her attempts in Alterac didn't bring her what she wanted. She hated herself for the actions she did. Yet Caeden...she did have feelings for him. Last night had not been a mistake. She gave herself to him willingly. He had been a gentle lover and Nyte gladly wished for more.

But running wouldn't bring her the peace she wanted. He stopped as he reached for her. She glanced to him and threaded her fingers in his. "I've been thinking. Jaina was willing to let the Sunreavers remain. Despite the actions of Songweaver. Aethas had been a loyal member of the Kirin-Tor for years. What changed."

"The bell. The Mogu artifact. It was stolen," Caeden answered.

"You said not by the Sunreavers...Aethas, I believe was not behind it. He's loyal to the Kirin Tor and Rommath has demonstrated his loyalty to his people. This actions puts them at harm."

Caeden become uncomfortable. He knew sooner or later she would ask.

"Jaina would only react as she did if the Sunreavers were involved. If someone from inside the Kirin Tor...Caeden..." She looked at him, horror dawning on her face.

Caeden didn't answer. She had connected the clues. He looked away. "It was a Sunreaver mage that opened the portal to Darnassus. And gave me the tag for the bell. Garrosh distrusts Lor'themar. I was ordered to spy on his activities and report back. Jaina was not suppose to be able to track the portal. I used no magic in the city. I was careful. The bell was to be safe from Garrosh. And her. From all that would use it for ill."

Nyte recoiled from him. "You knew why I was here. You knew what I was working towards. The bell was safe. The Alliance leaders, all of them, wanted this peace. Wanted the Sin'dorei as allies."

"All of them? Jaina Proudmoore speaks of peace with hollow words. Since Theramore..." Caeden countered.

"Since her city, her home was destroyed by the cowardly actions of a few that were to be loyal to her. Do you blame her? You were in Dalaran. You saw what your actions caused. There cannot be peace now. Not with this."

"Nyte...I am sorry. I need to atone. I want to atone. Garrosh Hellscream will destroy the Horde" As Nyte drew away, he reached for her.

"No...I am the one that is sorry. For thinking you would be above the trechery of your people. I should have known better than to trust those who steal energy and make pacts with demons."

Her words stung. Caeden stopped dead, taking deep breaths. He spoke quietly, "I think we should part ways. The pass is just ahead. "Shorel'aran Miss Addington," He turned his hawkstrider around.

Nyte refused to turn around, refused to watch him go. She wielded her words as expertly as she wielded her daggers. She rose in silence through the Elfgates, tears stinging her eyes.

* * *

Shaw stood at the top of Northpass Tower. He had sent Tristen back to Stormwind in chains. Of course, he would have them removed before he got to the city and nothing more would come of things. He and Renzik would never tell Tristen that. The little Goblin was taking great joy out of teaching Tristen his lesson.

Nyte had been spotted heading south. Alone oddly enough and not in the company of the Blood Elf she was seen with before. The report said he was a Paladin and not a Farstrider. He knew Nyte had no connection with Lady Liadrin. The presence of the Paladin was odd...unless... No, after Sundancer, Nyte wouldn't allow anyone close. Not even Tristen. She had lovers occasionally, but never for long. This was an interesting development.

Within the hour, he saw her approaching on foot. She looked exhausted but unharmed. He approached her as she made her way up to the path that would lead to the main tower.

"Nyte?" Shaw asked concerned. Her head was hung low and she refused to look anyone in the eye.

"Celine" was what she whispered. She nodded her thanks to the Argent Crusade commander as he handed her a bowl of soup. She slunk down onto a cot and just stared ahead with vacant eyes.

* * *

From a distance and under the effects of one of his heavy stealth potions, Caeden watched. Nyte had arrived safely at Northpass Tower and was in the care of the Argent Crusade. Soon she would be back in Stormwind and out of his life.

Sighing, he headed south towards Undercity.


End file.
